


Cryptid in the Basement

by OtterlyDeerlightful



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Abusive Parents, Caretaking, Cryptid!Robbie, Gen, Injury, Sportacus is a kid, and Robbie doesn't like him, does this count as Stockholm Syndrome?, he's like a mashup between a cranky cat and a pissy lizard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-11-09 12:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11104797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtterlyDeerlightful/pseuds/OtterlyDeerlightful
Summary: After a close encounter with a troll, Robbie finds himself in a strange place with an equally strange boy named Sportacus.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely adore cryptid Sportacus, and my brain couldn't help but try and design a cryptid Robbie. I seem to have made him a bit more animalistic than I originally intended, but I can't help but love his grumpy butt. I hope you like him, too. Hopefully I'll have some sketches of him up eventually as well.

For once, it had actually been a nice day. Finding breakfast had been blessedly effortless, the sky remained mercifully overcast to keep the harsh sun from his sensitive eyes, and the stream water was exceptionally refreshing. It was a peaceful, quiet, perfect day for the creature. Which is why he should have known that something bad was bound to happen to end it all.

He probably should have taken off the second he heard the rumbling over the hill. Trees were sparse, but enough to obscure whatever might have been going on nearby. That noise could have come from anything, he reasoned; there was no need for any real alarm. Plenty of creatures—sentient and otherwise—lived in the area, and he jumped at every little noise he would _never_ get any sleep.  So long as the nameless commotion stayed where it was, he didn’t care in the slightest. He probably should have guessed, though, that the nameless commotion _wouldn’t_ stay where it was. Life rarely worked like that. The next cry was far closer.

The creature swiveled one ear around to listen more closely at the nearing ruckus. After a moment, he lazily looked up to scan the hillside for potential danger. An angry, echoing bellow shook the air around him, officially ruining his previously perfect and placid day. He watched as there was a flash of movement and color through the trees, something dashing down the hillside toward the stream. Whatever it was, it was small…obviously not the source of the danger.

That was when he heard a mighty crack that reverberated through the shallow valley. He watched with wide eyes as one of the hill’s treetops was swiftly removed, crashing down into its dendrous neighbors. He was able to catch sight of the perpetrator only briefly before the brute lumbered further down the hill, its image obscured once again. It was a troll. And it was angry.

He fell to his belly, pressing himself into the rock he had been using as a temporary bed in the hopes that he wouldn’t be noticed by the monster. Why did he have to be a troll? He hated trolls. The creature involuntarily shivered as a ripple worked its way across his skin and through his hair, shifting their pallet to best match the ground in an attempt to make himself disappear into his surroundings. If he didn’t move a muscle, maybe the troll would just stomp straight through the area and leave him alone and he could resume his formerly lazy afternoon. Hiding was easier than running.

Another roar was quickly followed by a much quieter shout of terror. The little thing that the troll was chasing finally came into view as it partially ran, partially tumbled, down the slope toward the stream. The small creature—a boy?—splashed frantically through the shallows. He tripped, falling face-first into the water as his pursuer grew closer. The camouflaged creature stayed tensely still with wide eyes. The boy pushed himself up and plodded forcefully through the water in a desperate attempt to reach the other side and continue his escape.

The troll—far more bulbous and grotesque in appearance than the creature had anticipated from his earlier glance—finally burst free from the hill’s last line of defending trees. It ripped one of the smaller woody plants straight from the soil and, with an angry bellow, hurled it at the child. The boy screamed as the trunk crashed down before him, so close that he had to quickly turn away to avoid having the tee’s farthest-reaching branches slap across the already-scratched skin of his cheek. He quickly diverted his path to find a more manageable means of safety.

The creature tried to keep himself from bolting from the scene entirely. The troll was already in sight, and it was stomping its way into the water after its prey. If he moved now, he would be seen, and that was the last thing one wanted to be when there was a furious troll around. If you were seen, you were a target, and there was no way that he could outrun that frenzied hulk of a beast. He had his eyes glued so firmly on the growling angry mass that he didn’t even notice how closely the boy was to his position. By the time he noticed how far the child had changed course, it was far too late for him to get out of their way.

The boy gave only a quick and terrified glance over his shoulder at the troll stomping loudly through the water behind him. His attention quickly twisted back to what was ahead when there was suddenly a new wail from his immediate left. The creature snapped up the instant that the boy stomped down on his tail. The rocky camouflage drained from his purple hide and the orchid-tinted spines down his back immediately sprang up in defense. He hissed at the boy in a pained and angered panic before both of them froze at the sound of another roar from the troll.

The boy glanced quickly between the two deadly-looking creatures and rightly decided that removing himself from their presence was still the best course of action. The child took off running as the troll—alarmingly, dangerously close now—swiped its massive hand down  in an attempt to grab him. The creature yelped, barely dodging the troll’s grasp himself. It made another grab for him, this time catching him by his long tail. The creature hissed and spit in a panic, whipping his body back around to claw and bite at his offender.

The troll lifted him—higher and distressingly higher—and the creature kept clawing and spitting and biting. He thrashed about wildly, a desperate attempt to preserve his precious life. The troll grunted and, to his surprise, looked away from for an instant. Something hit the troll’s face. Another rock followed, catching the brute in his swollen nose. The already angry fiend snarled and turned his attention back to the child who was staring up at the scene with giant eyes. The troll dropped the creature and the child likewise dropped the rock he was holding and ran. Miraculously freed—though in terrible pain from the fall—the purple creature instinctively took off after the human. He kept as low to the ground as possible in case that disgusting hand came swooping down at him again any time soon.

The creature quickly outpaced the child, bolting urgently across the landscape in search of somewhere to hide. It didn’t take long, though, for the boy—yelping in terror and almost falling as he dodged another swipe from the troll—began to catch up to him. The creature was fast, but he tired easily; there was no way he could endure the chase for much longer. He huffed and puffed as his eyes darted across the hillside. There! He veered off, catching the boy’s attention as he made a beeline toward a shadowy area amongst a small group of rocks.

He pulled away some stones and promptly darted into the shallow cave. The entrance was small, just barely big enough for him to fit, and it was perfect. He coiled himself at the back of the poor excuse of a cavity and pressed himself into the lumpy back wall. To his amazement, the human’s face suddenly obscured his slight view of the land beyond. Realizing that the boy was invading his perfect hiding place, he gave a low growl and raised his spines. The child stared at him for a moment, briefly looked back at the rumbling beast behind them, and decided to take his chances with the hissing creature.

The tiny cave’s pioneer hissed at the invader, but didn’t dare pounce. Not only was there just no room, but he dared not risk accidentally getting too close to the entrance and within reach of the angry troll outside. The boy pressed himself on the side of the hiding place opposite of his, which was just fine. For now, at least, they had a tolerable truce. He did his best to ignore the child.

Outside, the troll screamed in anger, his foul voice booming across the small valley. He grabbed at the small opening, trying in vain to fit his massive hand inside to grab at the awful little things cowering within. The two winced at every fist that smashed into the earth and every stone that threatened to fall down on their heads. Each squirmed back as much as possible whenever the troll tried to reach inside. It roared again in frustration.

The purple creature, though still thoroughly terrified, couldn’t help but let his exhausted body begin to relax. The troll couldn’t get at him. He no longer had to run; it was just a waiting game now, and he could stay put for days if absolutely needed. He shuddered as he pulled his long tail close to his body. It hurt. In fact, all of him hurt. He uttered an involuntary whine as the rush of his escape began to wear off, leaving his body to finally register just how battered and bruised it was. It did not feel good. His limbs hurt, his head ached, his skin stung, and he was suddenly aware of the distinct smell of blood that filled his hideaway. The creature leaned against the rocky wall beside him and sighed. His head drooped and his body dropped to the ground with an exhausted huff, no longer aware of either the troll or the human sitting beside him.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing the creature became aware of was how damned terrible he felt. His entire body ached, even places he didn’t think _could_ ache. And his right side was itching something awful. He was laying on…something. And it was uncomfortable. He moved to sit upright, but just ended up hissing from the lightning bolt of pain that ricocheted through every bit of him. It was difficult to move. Something was holding him down.

He twisted his neck back to discover that portions of his body were wrapped in some kind of off-white…cloth? He reached back and tried to bite at some of the slightly constricting material, but it was surprisingly thick and tugging at it just made him hurt more. He whined and laid back down with a heavy sigh. His side still itched. Mustering what little energy he had, the purple creature forced himself to roll just enough that he was no longer on his side. He sniffed at the scratchy patch of straw there and wrinkled his nose. Hay? Why was there hay? …and where was he?

He realized in that moment that he was no longer in his small hideaway. He was still in a cave, it seemed, but…definitely not the _same_ cave. This one was far bigger. He looked up, able to see a patch of dim light from the outside. Was the sun already setting? How long had he been unconscious? And…how did he manage to get here in the first place?

With a pained grunt, he slowly forced himself to his feet. The creature took a preliminary look at his new surroundings. It was…certainly the strangest cave he had ever seen, and he had seen a fair number in his travels. There were unfamiliar objects piled everywhere, many of them on structures that lined its carved out walls. In the middle of the area was another odd structure that reached as high as the ceiling itself. He frowned, realizing that there was a sliver of light coming from the top of the ascending that structure, too. Wherever this cave was, he was close enough to the surface that sunlight could make its way through the cracks in the rock.

His joints cracked as he attempted to stretch. His yelp echoed off the walls and he forced himself to hold still until his body stopped screaming at him from doing something so stupid. He breathed in the stale, musty air that surrounded him only to freeze when he picked up a very familiar scent. The creature immediately turned his attention to the small plate of food nearby. He carefully stepped over to the small assortment, sniffing at what he found there. An apple, a couple of carrots, and a fish. Not the best choices, but given how sour the day had turned on him, the creature should have expected as much. At least a bowl of water accompanied the poor selection.

He made a face, but nibbled at the fish, dragging it off the plate and carefully sitting down to eat. If someone else was trying to save it for themselves, they should have guarded it better. The fish tasted alright, at least; it was something in his stomach after a trying day. Despite realizing he _was_ hungry, the creature didn’t finish his meager meal. He felt a bit too sick from eating even that much. He groaned, scratching at the nearby hay pile to distract himself for only a minute or so before the fish decided to return for a visit. He gagged and shook his head weakly before licking at his muzzle in an attempt to get rid of the horrid taste. Maybe a bit of water would help. What a day.

Stomach simultaneously rumbling as well as rolling, the creature slowly wandered the perimeter of the cave. It was strangely shaped, with its unnaturally even walls, but he was more concerned with its entrance. That sunlight was up so high and there was no visible way to comfortably climb up to it. He probably shouldn’t stay here much longer, with the mystery of his arrival and who had arranged it, but he couldn’t figure out how to reach that sunlight from where he stood. The creature, leaning on one of the taller structures in the cave for support, shakily rose to his hind legs. He whined painfully, but managed to stand in spite of it. He sniffed at the air, unsure why it was still so stale, even this close to the entrance. It made no sense.

A strange creaking noise from the center of the cave made him spin his head around in alarm. His ears perked forward and he quickly crouched low, momentarily forgetting the agony that raced through his body with each movement. He slunk back as the cave was momentarily illuminated before the light disappeared with a second creak, this one followed by a thick clanking sound. The creature hurried into an hole void of clutter on the tall structure nearby for somewhere to hide. He shivered, letting his hide blend in with the surrounding darkness. Seemingly from nowhere came a series of soft approaching footsteps.

He watched a pair of pale blue sneakers descend the wooden structure at the cave’s center. He watched quietly as the boy from earlier stopped and groped around in the darkness. The way he was grabbing for and missing the dangling chain from the cave ceiling made it look like the human couldn’t see in the dark.  The boy’s hand, at last, found what it was hunting for and he pulled. Robbie shut his eyes tightly at the sudden light that seeped into the room. It wasn’t blinding, exactly, but its sudden appearance did hurt for a moment.

“Hello?” the child called softly, looking around. He walked over to the little patch of straw and the not-quite digested fish that sat in the middle of it. “Oh no.” He looked around again. “Hello?” the boy asked again. “Are you okay? Are…are you feeling sick?”

The creature stayed silent. He watched the child with utmost suspicion. Why were they back? He knew that humans were trouble; this one in particular was apparently adept at upsetting trolls, and that was not a good trait to display as a first impression. He had been forced to live near human settlements now and then through his life, so he wasn’t a _complete_ stranger to their ways, but that only meant he knew just how untrustworthy they were as a species. He was _not_ about to answer the child’s calls.

The boy bit his lip, looking rather nervous as he looked around the little cave. “Y-you’re still in here, right?” he asked worriedly. “I-I just want to know you’re okay. You…you didn’t eat much and...” He glanced back at the hay but didn’t say more, instead opting to start slowly walking around the room and looking about.

The creature watched the boy grow ever closer, trying to keep himself still. With any luck, the child would get bored and leave. He hoped they would get bored and leave. Please let them leave. Forever unlucky—for what other excuse could there be?—he soon found the human was staring straight at him in spite of his camouflage. The child suddenly looked strangely relaxed. He was even smiling.

“Oh, there you are. You had me so worried!” He tilted his head slightly, crouching to lower himself to the creature’s eye level. “You’re near invisible! That’s so neat! No wonder I didn’t see you when I was running out there. That’s a really handy trick, but you don’t have to hide around me. It’s alright.” He reached out a hand.

The creature growled, pressing his ears back. How could the boy find him so easily? He knew humans had a terrible sense of smell; they had always proved themselves to be incredibly stupid and violent. Why was this one acting so strange? He hissed, wishing he could back up just a bit farther. He tried to pull his tail closer and out of the boy’s reach when he spotted the strange white strips wrapped around the appendage. He growled again, this time out of frustration. Of _course_ the human spotted him when he was covered in that stupid fabric!

“Shhh. Shhhh, it’s alright,” the boy whispered in an attempt to soothe the creature before him. “It’s alright, I promise. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I won’t hurt you. If it weren’t for you I’d be troll chow by now!” he chuckled. “My name’s Sportacus. Do you have a name?”

The creature glared at them.

“Can you talk?”

He narrowed his eyes at the boy. Well if _that_ wasn’t an insulting question to ask. He snorted.

The boy—Sportacus—straightened up with a sigh and put his hands on his hips. He glanced back toward the little hay pile. “Well, you need to eat something. I’ll try and find something else you’ll like, okay? I…I’ll be back later with some more food as soon as I can. You try and rest until then.”

The creature hissed when the boy moved again. Thankfully, they were only heading back the way they had come. He peeked out of his small cubby area, craning his neck to watch the boy climb the wooden structure in the center of the chamber. The creaks, burst of additional light, and creak-thump soon followed. Once confident that the boy was entirely gone, the purple creature carefully lowered himself back to the ground and walked over to the base of the wooden construct the boy had used. He squinted up at the round light hanging from the ceiling, then sniffed at the air.

That crack of light must somehow be the true entrance to the cave. Slowly, wincing or whining with every step, he made his way up to the crack and sniffed at it. The air was fresher on the other side of the divider, that was for sure. He could smell the boy, traces of other humans, and a plethora of other scents he wasn’t entirely familiar with. He could hear faint shuffling sounds as well, but whatever was making it didn’t seem to be too close.

He pressed on the false wall to no avail, so he slowly stood on his hind legs to try pawing at the small lone structure sticking out from it instead. The thing wiggled and made a vague clinking sound, but it changed nothing. He looked up, inspecting the sight of the faux wall. It took a minute, but his eyes suddenly dilated in revelation. This was a door! He had seen doors before; they were the entranceways to human dens. But that meant…he glanced back over his shoulder. This wasn’t a cave. It was a human structure. A prison.

The creature scratched at the door, bit at the little knob that stuck out from its unyielding face. He leaned against it, pushing on it as much as he could stand before he pulled his shoulder back with a pained cry. He wasn’t strong enough, not with how he ached and stung and wanted to vomit all over again. He was stuck here, at least for the time being. The creature sighed. He gave up on escape after only a few minutes. His injuries were burning and he was exhausted from the meager effort. Careful to keep his balance, he made his way back down to the cell floor.

He swayed on his feet, but refused to return to that awful hay pile, particularly now that it smelled like rotten fish. He looked around and soon realized that many of the strange objects throughout the room actually held even more peculiar objects within. He stalked along the edges of his prison and peered inside any box or bin that was easily within reach; he wasn’t about to exert more energy than he had to right now.

Ah, here it was. He knew humans would have something like this packed away somewhere. They always seemed to have nice things like this; it was the one decent thing about the species as far as he was concerned. He pulled the box free from the shelf with his teeth, toppling it over before rooting around in its contents. It only took a few minutes for him to turn the store of old clothes into a soft makeshift nest. He gingerly lowered his aching body into his masterpiece and let out a long, tired sigh. He might be trapped, but he was in no shape to muscle his way to freedom. Yet. He needed to rest. Maybe tomorrow would be better. It certainly couldn’t be any worse than today, could it?


	3. Chapter 3

He awoke to the sound of footsteps. It took him a moment to register them as such, but that was certainly what they were…and he could guess who they belonged to. The purple creature buried his head under what was once a dress before his claws got ahold of it and watched the boy as best as he could with his limited visibility. The Sportacus child frowned as he dropped something to the floor and inspected the food and water that hadn’t been touched since the boy’s last visit. With a sigh, they started hunting around, presumably for him. The first place Sportacus looked was the shelf they had found him on the night prior, but to no avail. It took him a few more minutes of searching to notice the toppled box and the purple creature wrapped up in its contents. He growled at the boy when he got close enough.

“Oh there you are,” Sportacus mumbled, biting his lip nervously. “Um…y-you like sleeping in there?” he asked curiously.

The creature growled again, whipping its tail threateningly. The child had better stay where he was.

“Okay, um…oh, man.” He glanced back upstairs for a moment. “Good thing Aunt Oliva never comes down here or she’d be furious. I’ll get you some soft stuff to make a bed out of later, okay? You can’t just rip up all of my aunt’s stuff.”

He hissed. He would rip whatever he pleased. As if to emphasize the point, he scratched his claws over what used to be a pair of pants. Now it was scraps.

“At least you’re okay enough to be mad at me, I guess,” Sportacus sighed, thankfully turning their attention away from him.

He watched the child pull something large and black out of his pocket. The creature yowled and jumped to his feet when the boy whipped it through the air, creating a series of whip-cracking booms. He scrambled backwards, running into one of the shelving units in his panic. It wavered, giving the purple creature just enough time to push himself away. He escaped the tower of boxes and strangely-shaped objects that came crashing down by mere inches.

He pushed himself into the nearest corner and stared in alarm at the horrible child and his black death-weapon. He couldn’t help but shake as the realization struck him that the towering thing and all of its stupid human collections could have killed him. That would have been it! Death by human garbage because a horrible boy wanted to deafen him with a horrible plastic weapon from hell. What _else_ were they going to do to him?

Sportacus stared, mouth hanging open as the trash bag slipped from the boy’ hands and fluttered harmlessly to the floor. His hands snapped up to his temples in sheer panic.

“Oh no! No no no no…oh God, no! I…” He reached out, as though he would somehow be able to reverse the damage with a simple gesture. “Oh I hope she doesn’t come down here…oh, I am going to be in _so_ much trouble.”

The boy caught sight of the purple creature cowering in the corner and immediately forgot the disaster between them. “Oh! Oh no, are you alright?” he cried, rushing over with worry.

The creature hissed loudly, swiping at him with his claws and spitting, all of his spines standing on end and all fangs on full display.  

Sportacus stopped short, hands up defensively. “Sorry, sorry…I…I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m so sorry! You didn’t get hurt from that, did you?” he asked fearfully, trying to look over the creature from a distance.

He growled and pulled his tail close, then gave another hiss for good measure. He _knew_ the stupid boy wasn’t to be trusted. Disaster followed the child like a magnet, it seemed, and somehow he had ended up tethered to them. Maybe it was debatable, then, which one had the worse luck. The creature grumbled darkly to himself.

“I’m sorry,” Sportacus said again softly as he slowly backed away to give the poor creature its space. “I won’t do that again. You just, um...you stay here and I’ll make thing better, alright?”

He glared and watched the Sportacus child wander back to yesterday’s mound of straw and started gathering the nasty scratchy material into a tighter pile. He shoved it into the black bag thing he had been whipping about and, after the boy covered his hands in something, threw the leftover food into the bag as well. Sportacus tried not to look at him as they hurried up the stairs and left again.

The creature ached from all of the sudden movement and decided it best to just stay where he was for the time being. He had just set his head down when he heard the door open and close again, causing his muscles to tense right back up again. So much for rest. Or safety. What _else_ did the awful human plan on torturing him with now?

“I...I got you some things,” Sportacus said quietly.

The boy set down a small tray. He wasn’t sure what was on it, but he knew it was some sort of food. He could smell it. It was interesting and…and oh it reminded him how hungry he was. The creature’s stomach rumbled longingly as his eyes darted between the object of his desires and the person of his misfortunes.

“And I got these for you, too,” he said, letting the blankets fall from his opposite shoulder. He held up one particular item depicting the image of a human holding something broad and flat. It looked like some kind of flattened bowl. It was stupid. “This one’s my favorite…but I think after everything you’ve been through you deserve it more. It’s really soft and warm. I think you’ll like it. You can make a better bed out of these than Aunt Oliva’s clothes.”

For a little while, neither of them moved. Sportacus, shoulders drooping, wandered off to a corner of the room and sat down. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin there, watching the creature opposite of him. He just stared right back.

“ _Please_ eat something,” the boy whispered. “You need to eat something.”

They stayed like that for nearly an hour, neither one wanting to move with the other one watching. Eventually, Sportacus’ eyelids began to droop, and the creature perked its ears forward to listen. Once the boy’s breathing deepened and slowed into an even cycle, he finally forced himself to his feet. Joints creaking, he carefully walked over to the tray of food and bowl of water. He sniffed at the curious assortment. Different fruits, a few vegetables, bread, little pieces of meat that were for some reason rolled into stout sticks, and…something that smelled absolutely delicious.

He licked the strange circular-shaped items. How they looked reminded him slightly of flat river rocks with dark speckles strewn throughout. And they tasted absolutely divine! The sweetness from them practically coated his tongue and he snatched up as many of the little discs as he could as quickly as possible. They had such a satisfying crunch, and those little dark specks were the best part of the whole concoction. He licked at the tray where they had been, his tongue lapping up as many of the crumbs left behind as best he could. Maybe his imprisonment wasn’t an entire disaster if the Sportacus boy knew where to get food like _this_.

Though upset that his tasty mystery treats were now gone, the creature turned his attention to having some water. His mouth suddenly felt very dry. Once satisfied with that, he gave the boy a glance to check that they were still asleep. He pinned his ears back immediately when he spotted the child’s bright blue eyes staring right at him. He froze, staring at the human, looking for any indication that they might pounce. Or throw something. Or do something incredibly stupid that would end up getting him killed in some horrible way. The boy just smiled at him.

“You like cookies?” he asked.

He stared at the human, slowly taking in the new word. Cookies. Was that what he had just eaten? He would have to remember that word. The creature huffed and, keeping his eyes trained on the child, started pawing slowly at the blankets sitting near the food tray. The Sportacus boy had been right about these, at least; the blankets were incredibly soft.

“Cookies aren’t very healthy, you know,” the child continued, not bothered by the creature’s stare or raised spines. “But at least you’re eating something. Just try to keep them down, okay?”

The creature didn’t reply.

“I know I asked before, but…do you have a name?” Sportacus asked.

He pawed carefully at the blanket with the picture of the human on it.

“I’ll take that as a no.” The boy hummed, thinking to himself. “How about I call you…Robbie? You seem like a Robbie to me.”

He swiveled an ear toward the child, admittedly curious. Based on his smile, the boy seemed encouraged by his response.

“Robbie it is, then! Now we both know each other’s names!”

The creature nuzzled himself down into his new, soft nest and sighed, allowing his body to relax as much as he dared with the human still in the room. Oh, Sportacus was right. This _was_ much nicer than the thin fabrics he had found earlier. This was the softest bed he had ever arranged and it felt _so_ wonderful after what his body had been through.

Slowly, the boy stood up. The creature reacted with a growl before flattening himself into his new blankets. Sportacus put his hands up to try and show he meant no harm. They deliberately started to walk toward the stairway to leave. He watched them closely.

“You get some rest, okay, Robbie? I’ll come back when I can. I’ll bring you more cookies if you try and eat some real food, too. Bye, Robbie.”

Sportacus started up the stairs, pulling the chain for the ceiling light before going up and leaving _Robbie_ alone in the dark. The creature sighed, fully relaxing at last. He buried his nose into his nest, did his best to ignore the Sportacus boy’s scent that still clung to the blankets.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Robbie finds his true love

The creature, or _Robbie_ as the boy had decided to call him, slept longer than he had thought possible. Usually he had a difficult time staying asleep for long stretches of time and he rarely felt completely rested when he awoke, but this time he felt almost _good_ as he blinked away the sleep from his eyes. He must have slept deeper than usual, too, because the first thing he noticed about his surroundings was that his food and water had been replenished.

He yawned and shook his head. Instinctively, he tried to arch his back to crack himself into place, but that hope was soon dashed when he stretched a little too much and aggravated his injuries yet again. He croaked in pain and pulled his body into a tight ball to wait out the stinging rush.

“Be careful!” a soft whisper begged.

He whipped his head around, ears perked and eyes wide, to behold the Sportacus boy sitting off in the corner of the dark room. Their knees were pulled up to their chest and they were watching the purple creature with intense concern. He narrowed his eyes at the human, suddenly feeling incredibly on edge. How long had the boy been sitting there? Sleeping through a quick food delivery was on thing, but to sleep while a human—one that had already proven himself to be a terrible harbinger of misfortune—prowled around your nest, spied on you, and plotted heavens knew what against you…that was something entirely different.

He uttered a warning growl to keep the child in its place while he resumed his preparations for arousing from his nest. Sportacus, thankfully, didn’t move. Maybe the boy wasn’t _quite_ as stupid as he first thought.

He wandered over to the tray of food and was unable to keep himself from grinning when he found a new pile of cookies waiting for him. Ignoring the rest of the assortment, he snapped at the tasty treats and gobbled them down as quickly as possible. If only there was more. He wrinkled his nose when it accidentally bumped into the strange food item sitting next to his delicacies. He slipped his tongue out to lick it off and froze.

Up until that moment the creature thought that he would never in his life be able to find something more delicious than his precious cookies. But he was wrong. Looking down at the tray, he studied the strange wedge-shaped morsel he had just discovered. It smelled wonderfully sweet and was topped with an incredibly creamy-looking substance, which was what he had managed to get on his snout in the first place. He licked the mystery food curiously, a shudder running through him at the mere taste of something so perfect. His cookies already a distant memory, the creature wrapped the entirety of his maw around the wedge just to let it sit on his tongue for a moment before he utterly devoured it. He couldn’t help but hum in total bliss from the experience.

A quiet giggle interrupted his state of ecstasy. “You really like cake, huh?”

Cake? Was that what that piece of the heavens was called? The creature decided right then that he had a new life’s goal: find and eat as much of this _cake_ as possible.

“I’ll try and get you some more if I can. If Aunt Olivia gives me another piece, I’ll save it for you, okay?”

The creature shifted his weight, debating within himself. While he hated the idea of the human continually coming down into his temporary territory, the promise of more cake...well, it was very alluring, to say the least. Perhaps, just perhaps, if they brought him cake, he could tolerate the child’s presence. A little.

“Are you feeling any better, Robbie?” Sportacus asked.

He barely glanced at the boy before going to drink some water. He eyed the rest of the food tray as he drank. There were no more sweet things left, but his stomach still growled for more. Giving in, he licked his chin clean and sniffed at the little wads of meat that were left for him. Reluctantly, he took one. It was…alright. Nothing special, but alright. As he ate a second of the meat-things, he poked at a stout pear sitting nearby. He was not going to eat _that_. Nor the crispy green stalks sitting next to it.

“You don’t seem to like sportscandy much, do you?” the boy asked a bit sadly.

He huffed and picked up another piece of meat.

The human sighed. “I like sportscandy, but…maybe you don’t need them so much.” They tilted their head, inspecting him. “But you like hot dogs, at least! I can get you more of those.”

He would prefer if the boy brought more cake and cookies instead.

There was a quiet noise from the boy’s direction and they sighed. “I’m kind of hungry myself,” Sportacus mumbled. “I didn’t wanna go back up until I knew you were okay.” They swallowed. “I was really worried about you last night. I was scared that…” The child shook their head. “I’ve just never seen anything like you before.”

The creature ignored the Sportacus. Let the boy ramble, so long as they stayed away from him. He settled back down into his nest of blankets, kneading at the softest of the bunch as he got comfortable.

“I told you those were really comfy,” the child said as they watched him. “That’s my favorite superhero.”

The creature figured that the boy was talking about the image of the human on the blanket he was currently ripping apart. Oh well. If they hadn’t wanted him to destroy it, they shouldn’t have given it to him. Humans were stupid.

“I wanna be a superhero when I grow up,” Sportacus continued, not seeming to be bothered by Robbie’s actions in the slightest. “My dad was a hero. I’m gonna be just like him. I’m gonna go around and save people and help when someone’s in trouble and I’m gonna teach them all about good stuff like my dad did!”

Fascinating. He yawned and laid down in his blanket pile, but he found it impossible to completely block out the human’s pointless ramblings.

“Mom said dad is why I look different,” the boy continued incessantly. “She always told me to keep my ears hidden. That’s why I wear this,” they said, taking off their stupid-looking blue cap as though the creature would want to see it.

He couldn’t help but glance in the child’s direction when they flashed their hat at him; the quick movement was impossible to ignore. He lifted his head for a better look, though, when he spotted the reason the boy was babbling on about a hat. Their ears were pointed. It was slight, yes, but the shape was unmistakable. The Sportacus boy was part elf. Well, _that_ made things a bit more interesting, didn’t it? No wonder the child was so stupid…they had both human _and_ elf blood working against them. He couldn’t help but snicker to himself. Sportacus didn’t seem to notice.

“I think it would be really neat to travel around and help people, don’t you? I mean, having people like you and ask you for help and being able to make people happy…” The boy sighed, rubbing the black stripe on the cap in their hands. “And everyone likes superheroes. They’re strong and nice and...”

The child went surprisingly quiet for a minute. Their change in demeanor was so abrupt that even the creature felt a surprising pang of concern. He gurgled in his throat, hoping that the reminder that the elf-boy wasn’t alone might fix whatever problem was happening.

Sportacus looked up at Robbie and smiled softly. “I’m not a superhero yet, but…but at least I helped you, right? I mean, I think I did. I _hope_ I did. You looked really bad after that troll chased us.” They gave a stilted sort of laugh. “You were _super_ heavy but I got you here, and Aunt Oliva didn’t even know, and I made sure all your cuts and stuff were cleaned up. Now you’ll be able to feel better faster.” Sportacus suddenly made a face as a thought occurred to them. “Aw man...how am I gonna get those bandages off you?”

Robbie snorted, looking a bit smug. The child may have been able to wrap the constricting fabrics around him while he was weak and unconscious, but there would be hell to pay if they tried to get anywhere near him to take them off now that he was starting to feel better. No sticky, grubby human hands were going to be fondling _him_ if he had any say in the matter. Once he didn’t feel so sore he would chew the bandages off himself and push down that stupid cellar door to freedom.

Sportcus interrupted his thoughts of triumphant victory by standing up. Robbie’s spines rose immediately and he narrowed his eyes on the elf hybrid. The child did not seem concerned with the purple creature’s defensive stance. They pulled the hat back over their blond hair and took care to tuck their ears under the band.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay, Robbie? I promise I’ll bring you some more food, too…but you gotta try and eat something besides just sweets. A couple hot dogs isn’t enough real food.” They waved to the creature and headed back up the stairs.

For a moment, the creature debating charging after them, shoving the boy aside when they opened the basement door and bolting for freedom. But he wasn’t sure if his body would be able to take that just yet. Besides, he was certain that he would forfeit his chances at getting more cake if he tried it. He would occupy himself with exploring the basement for the time being.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Got a little story for ya, Ags! XD

It didn’t take the creature long to decide that he hated captivity. Sure, he had lived half of his life taking shelter in underground caverns of one sort or another, but being _stuck_ in one was beyond ridiculous. The creature was going stir crazy, so much so, that he realized with absolutely horror that he was starting to look _forward_ to Sportacus’ daily visits. He hated the child, but at least they were some semblance of company, a reminder that a world existed outside of the four walls he was imprisoned within.

He turned away from staring up at what he now realized was not a cave entrance, but a lone basement window, when he heard the basement door open. The sound was quickly followed by a parade of child-sized footsteps and he forced himself to stand up in preparation for the day’s visit. Sportacus did not seem to have a set schedule as to when he ventured down to see Robbie—oh gods he was beginning to use the boy’s selected name as his own—so the arrival of food always got him to rise and greet his unlikely warden.

“Hi, Robbie!” the boy cried cheerfully when they spotted the creature waiting nearby.

Robbie watched their every move, particularly the plate in Sportacus’ hands.

 “Sorry I’m a little late. I couldn’t come down until Aunt Olivia left for her club meeting. But I was able to get another piece of cake to make up for it! And guess what. I got a scoop of ice cream with it, too!”

The creature’s ears perked up at the magical word of _cake_. His tail lazily waved from side to side behind him at the mere thought of tasting that bit of paradise again. Living in captivity might be horrible, but at least easy access to regular food—especially food that tasted so delicious!—was at least one perk of his current predicament. He lowered his head, ears back as he paced and waited for the boy to set down their tasty offerings.

Sportacus carefully set the plate down. Robbie licked his jowls at the sight of the gorgeous orange-and-yellow cake. A spherical lump of some creamy off-white substance sat next to it. That must be the ice cream. He hoped it tasted sweet enough to deserve a place next to something as perfect as cake. The creature stalked up and down, eyes flicking between his meal and the child standing over it. Sportacus watched him with a quivering smile on his lips. Robbie growled impatiently. _Finally_ Sportacus dropped their smile, sighed, and backed away. Once they had retreated a safe distanc, the creature descended on his unsuspecting prey.

The cake was as marvelous as he remembered. He had to force himself to slow down so he could savor the beautiful slice before it was gone. The ice cream, he discovered, was shockingly cold. He shook his head after his first lick. He blinked, staring at the melty ball, then licked at it again. So sweet and lovely. He laid down to lick at the sugary ball over and over. As much as he wanted to eat the entire thing right then and there, it probably wasn’t the best idea to shove something so cold into his mouth all at once. It did have _ice_ in its name, after all; he should have expected it to be freezing.

Sportacus, meanwhile, had set himself to work trying to pick up the mess that now covered about half of the basement. In addition to what had been spilled during what the boy now referred to as ‘the garbage bag debacle,’ Robbie had topped a few additional shelves and stacks of boxes during his explorations of boredom over the past few days. Sportacus couldn’t exactly blame him for his behavior—the boy knew _they_ would be stir-crazy being stuck in one room for so long—but that didn’t mean they had to like trying to clean up the impossible amount of clutter.

Sportacus looked up from where he was working and caught sight of a series of scratches cascading down to the cement floor like a half-hearted waterfall. At the top, just beyond the highest of the claw marks, sat the basement window. The boy bit his lip and glanced over at his unorthodox houseguest who was still happily licking away at his scoop of ice cream.

“I’m sorry you have to be down here,” Sportacus mumbled. “I know you must hate it.”

The creature looked up at him as he spoke, but didn’t waver from enjoying his frozen treat. Sportacus sighed, clearly mulling over some conflict in their mind. After a moment the elf-boy went back to tidying up and Robbie worked on finishing off his wondrous meal.

“I remember this.”

The purple creature looked up when he caught sight of the child picking something up out of the clutter. The boy was always bouncing around or waving their hands while they talked about inane human things. It was incredibly annoying. He had always relied on picking up movement to hunt. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that Sportacus somehow knew this and was always zipping around the room to make his head spin on purpose. He blinked when the boy flashed a square-looking object at him.

“Jessie Jumper and Renegade Rabbit!”

Okay, now the boy was just spouting nonsense.

“My mom used to read this to me sometimes. It was one of my favorites when I was little.”

The pint-sized elf child used to be even _smaller_?

Sportacus wandered back toward the creature, staying just far enough away from Robbie so as not to illicit any hissing or spitting. They sat down on the bottom step of the staircase and opened the book.

Oh, good, at least the boy would finally be quiet for a while.

“Jessie Jumper wasn’t the fastest kangaroo. She couldn’t hop too high either, but Jessie didn’t care. She just liked jumping.”

Oh by the heavens the stupid Sportacus child wasn’t going to read that thing _out loud_ were they?

“She would be outside every day jumping. She really liked to play with her friends like Cordelia Crocodile and Sydney Silvereye.”

Oh, they _were_. Robbie buried his face under a fold in his blanket but it didn’t help drown out the story in the slightest.

“One day, Jessie was jumping out back of her house when she spotted an animal she had never seen before. Well, if there was a new animal in town, Jessie wanted to say hello!”

Robbie whined loudly. Maybe if he sounded pathetic enough the boy would take pity on him and set the book on fire instead of reading it.

 Sportacus interrupted reading when they heard the soft cries from their guest. “Oh, I’m sorry, Robbie!”

Oh thank gods they stopped.

“You probably can’t see the pictures from there, can you?”

Oh no.

“Here you go!”

The hybrid child turned the book, holding it up so Robbie could see the pages from which they were reading. Maybe it was morbid curiosity, maybe it as just self-loathing, but the creature found himself peeking out from under his blanket just enough to see what was on the stupid page of the stupid book.

Robbie had never seen a kangaroo before, but from the narrative he figured it was the long-eared animal that took up nearly half of the scenery. His knowledge on these imaginary animals was limited, to be sure, but he found himself doubting that—if they _were_ to exist—their fur probably wouldn’t be such a blue color.

Elated to see that the purple creature’s ears were forward and he was looking at their book, the boy turned the page and continued reading. Robbie’s ears immediately reversed position when he realized the child had taken his actions as encouragement to continue with their unique form for torture. The next page showed the main character greeting a new animal, this one brown but still with equally long ears.

“’Hello,’ Jessie Jumper said. ‘My name is Jessie and I am a kangaroo! Would you like to be friends?’ ‘Well _my_ name is Renegade Rabbit,’ they replied, ‘And I do _not_ want to be your friend! Now stop bothering me. I am busy!’”

Robbie smirked. The story should be about the rabbit animal instead of the blue kangaroo; he liked the rabbit.

“’And with that, Renegade Rabbit hopped away. ‘I wonder why he’s so mad,’ thought Jessie. ‘Maybe one of my friends will know.’”

From somewhere up above there was a bang. Sportacus stopped reading immediately and spun around in their seat and stared up at the cellar door. Robbie perked his ears forward to listen. Whatever that had been, it was enough to alarm the human, and that was signal enough that he should be concerned as well. The two sat perfectly still for a minute before the elf child slowly, quietly, got to their feet. The creature noticed that as Sportacus’ hand was shaking as they reached out toward the light chain above their head. That was worrying. Being chased by a troll, dragging Robbie home, sharing an enclosed space with a creature that hissed and spit at them…none of that made the child so visibly nervous, but whatever made that noise _did_. Sportacus clicked off the basement light and ceased all movement. Above, a few far-away thuds could be heard.

Sportacus carefully made their way from the bottom of the staircase back to a faraway corner of the basement. They stepped through and around the mess that the floor had become over the last few days, every step slow and deliberate as to not make a sound. The child still clutched the picture book in one hand, though its presence seemed completely forgotten.  Sportacus sat down in his corner and drew their knees up to their chin and wrapped their arms around them.

The creature was immediately concerned by the boy’s sudden change in demeanor. He was mildly surprised at his own reaction to the change in atmosphere, but at the same time, there was clearly some sort of danger in the air that the boy understood and he did not. He looked up toward the door above when the light from under it suddenly went out. Robbie heard Sportacus’ breath hitch in the darkness. The light returned soon after, the danger apparently gone.

The child finally set his book down and pressed their face into their knees. Sportacus began to make strange, muffled noises that the creature couldn’t identify for a moment. The boy sniffled, then whined quietly, sounding very much like a young kit in distress. Then Robbie understood…the child was crying. Sportacus, the ever-happy bundle of energy and selfless caring…was crying. He may have been alert before, but now he was worried.

Robbie quickly found himself standing. He looked around for something to do to fix things. He may be annoyed by the hybrid child’s constant babbling and bouncing, but that didn’t mean he was comfortable seeing them in such distress. Something was terribly wrong to make Sportacus cry and Robbie wasn’t entirely sure how to remedy the situation.

He looked down at his nest. The crumpled face of a human stared up at him. Robbie grumbled to himself as he grabbed the picture of the hero’s face in his mouth. It pained him to ruin his luxuriously comfortable nest, particularly after putting in so much hard work to get it just right, but he wasn’t sure what else to do at the moment. Robbie tugged at the blanket and started to walk over toward the boy with it. Sportacus looked up with a startled, worried gasp when the blanket dragged over a few of the items strewn about the place, clanking some things together and dragging others over the concrete floor.

The child watched in silent awe as Robbie dropped the half-shredded blanket a few feet away and stared at him. Sportacus swallowed, looking like they weren’t sure how to process the sight. To be honest, Robbie wasn’t sure what to think about his actions either. The creature huffed and turned away. He retreated a short distance and sat down. When Sportacus didn’t move he rolled his eyes and nodded toward the blanket, giving them an encouraging gurgle.

Sportacus stared at him. “F—for me?” they ventured, voice barely a whisper.

Robbie huffed again and looked away. Why was the child making such a big deal over a blanket? A torn up blanket, at that. He growled, mostly at himself, and let his tail whip back and forth behind him.

“Thank you, Robbie,” the boy said quietly.

The creature made the mistake of glancing over at Sportacus. He was greeted with the widest smile he had seen on the child’s face yet, and it looked like they were about to cry again. Just wonderful. Instead of bringing an _end_ to the crying he had just ushered in round two! Robbie pinned his ears back and watched as the child— _for that was what Sportacus was_ —pull the tattered blanket close and wrap it around themselves like it was the most precious gift they had ever received.

Robbie’s shoulders dropped as he beheld the sight. It was as though he had just had a blindfold lifted from his eyes. He knew Sportacus was a child because that was what he had heard humans call their young in the past, but it had never fully registered—not until now—what that meant. Sportacus’ sniffling and pathetic whines hadn’t sounded _like_ the cries of a kit; they _were_ the cries of a kit. Sportacus was just a kit…and he was scared of something.

The creature suddenly felt very uncomfortable. He didn’t know what to do with kits. All he knew of them was that they acted like Sportacus: full of energy, thoroughly stupid, and excellent at annoying adults…particularly when they were trying to get some much-needed rest. But, while he may not know how to properly act around kits, he wasn’t heartless. Sportacus was alone. And sad.

Robbie sighed. He would regret this later, he knew, but he didn’t see any alternatives that wouldn’t leave him feeling guilty later on. Reluctantly, the purple creature got up. He hesitated a second, then walked back toward the boy—the kit—and laid down on the edge of the blanket now wrapped around Sportacus’ shoulders.

The boy’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any bigger. They stared down at Robbie in wonder and Robbie looked back up at him coldly. Sportacus wet their lips nervously before letting a hand venture out from under the blanket. Robbie narrowed his eyes and gave a stern growl. Sportacus pulled their hand back slowly, but the smile on their face and the cheer in their puffy eyes didn’t go away.

Robbie pulled himself into a tight ball and tried to relax. He hoped the stupid boy appreciated his sacrifice…first the best blanket from his nest, then his own comfort. Concrete floors were not comfortable. Eventually, with some effort, Robbie managed to find sleep.

The next morning, he was surprised to find Sportacus still there, curled up in the blanket on the floor near him. He didn’t fully know why, but he felt that was probably concerning behavior for a human. His proximity to the boy gave him a fair view of Sportacus as well. Robbie decided that the bruised skin on their partially-exposed stomach was also concerning.


	6. Chapter 6

That night seemed to have changed something between the pair, Robbie decided, but he still wasn’t entirely convinced that it was a good thing. The Sportacus kit was suddenly even _more_ talkative and far bouncier around him than before, which was saying something. He didn’t care for it. He also didn’t care for the fact that he almost _cared_ about the stupid picture books that Sportaread kept trying to share with him. The stories were rudimentary—most of them involving that overly happy kangaroo and his so-called adventures ‘out back of her house’—but the illustrations were eye-catching and the boy appeared to be absolutely delighted to share them with him. So he endured.

Robbie also noticed one thing almost immediately after that night: Sportacus had a manipulative side. It was woefully underdeveloped for a human, he had to admit, but it was still there, and resisting the kit’s slimy schemes was proving difficult. Robbie found himself staring at the sneaky kit, his mouth watering. He inched closer, closer. He gave a sharp growl and whipped out his tongue to grab up the sugary morsel on the floor before immediately retreating halfway across the room. _Chocolate_ , Sportasneak had called it. Whatever it was, it was delicious and the boy was terrible for using it against him.

“Yes!” he heard the devious youth hiss in triumph before stretching out their arm and putting another piece of chocolate out for Robbie to drool over.

Robbie shook his head, mildly angry with himself for being so blatantly controlled. But at least the rewards were worth it. He watched the kit practically vibrate with excitement as they watched Robbie creep forward again. He froze when Sportacus reached into the bag in their lap to pull out a second candy. They placed it between themselves and the first target before sitting back with eyes filled with hope. What a conniving child.

He inched closer, uncomfortably close, and grabbed at the nearest bit of chocolate. He backed up only a few steps before throwing caution to the wind and lurching forward to grab at the second piece of tasty heaven. Treasure secured, Robbie ran back to the opposite wall to savor the melting chocolate sitting on his tongue.

“I only have one more,” Sportacus announced sadly as they slung their little bag back over their shoulder.

They held the piece up so Robbie could see it. The creature’s eyes latched onto the small object. He watched in delight as Sportacus tossed the chocolate into the air toward him. His eyes easily stayed fixed on the moving target as he jumped forward and snatched it up midair. He winced, the allure of chocolate somehow having made him forget about his injuries, but it had been worth it.

“Wow,” Sportacus whispered quietly.

Robbie didn’t understand what the kit was mumbling about.

“You’re really tall, Robbie.”

The creature looked down at himself. He suddenly realized that this probably _was_ the first time Sportacus had seen him standing on two legs instead of four. Sure, four was comfortable, natural even, but standing on two was simple enough. He would have thought Sportacus—literally a hybrid of two bipedal species—would have known that. Robbie rolled his eyes, huffed and, just to further bother the child, calmly walked back toward his blanket nest on his hind legs. He snorted and dropped back down to sit in comfort and gave the kit a smug smile.

“Wow! I didn’t know you could walk, too! That’s incredible!”

Didn’t know he could walk? What on earth did the boy call what he had been doing since they met, swimming?

Sportacus got to their feet and followed Robbie, careful to stay a comfortable distance away. The kit sat down on the bottom stair and watched their companion carefully. Robbie swiveled an ear toward them; the child looked like they wanted to say something. Sportacus opened their mouth, then closed it again, letting out a long breath instead. They watched Robbie for a minute and shrugged, probably in response to some thought running through their dim head.

Finally, the kit spoke. “Hey, Robbie? Ca-can I talk to you?”

The creature stared. Sportacus could talk to him better than anyone he knew. The boy wouldn’t _stop_ talking to him.

Taking the lack of spitting or growling as a yes, the child continued. “I just…I mean…” Sportacus sighed. “I…I know you’re unhappy being down here, but…but I just wanted to let you know it’s been a lot of fun having you here. At first I was really scared ‘cause I wasn’t sure if you were gonna die, or if you were gonna try and eat me when you woke up! And you didn’t,” the boy giggled. “You’re really cool, Robbie. I like being down here with you. And, uh, just…thanks.”

The purple creature stared at them, not really sure how to react to that. The boy _liked_ his company? What human or elf or…or _anything_ would like his company? Was the kit that daft?

“Sorry you don’t like it down here, though. It’s just…this is the only place I could hide you. You were really hurt and I didn’t want Aunt Oliva calling the cops to take you away.” Sportacus stared at the floor. “I didn’t want any more bad stuff to happen to you. So, um…sorry for cooping you up down here.”

Robbie finally diverted his eyes. He wasn’t sure what to think about any of that. The boy liked being around him _and_ they seemed remorseful about keeping him down here? From the way the kit was talking, it was almost like he considered Robbie as an…

Wait a minute.

He was really starting to think of himself as _Robbie_ lately, wasn’t he? Sportacus had given him that name. They had given him a name. And it wasn’t one of those names he had heard humans give to lesser animal companions like Spot or Clover or Boots. Sportacus had named him Robbie. He had heard humans call each other similar-sounding names…Rob, Robert, Robin...

He looked up at the boy sitting on the step. Sportacus was smiling.

“I’m gonna go get us some lunch, okay, Robbie?” they asked. “I’ll bring down the rest of the candy bar for you, too. Stay right there!”

The kit turned and ran up the stairs, mercifully leaving Robbie alone to relax for a little while. Sportacus was a very confusing human. Or elf, for that matter. How someone could seem so excited about everything was unfathomable; he felt exhausted just thinking about what sort of hell constantly expending that level of energy would be. Sportacus opened the basement door and, giving Robbie a quick wave, closed it again.

He could have escaped right then. He didn’t even have the excuse of saying that he stayed for the promise of chocolate; the rest of the tasty treat was quite literally just beyond that door. And yet, Robbie hadn’t moved. The thought didn’t even cross his mind until after the kit had been gone for a few minutes. He wanted his freedom again, sure, but…but what? He could have easily taken Sportacus by surprise by charging the open door and making a run for it. In fact, the option was there every time the boy came _or_ went; Sportacus trusted him enough to assume Robbie would stay put.

The kit trusted him. Honestly trusted him. He had had plenty of humans—even impressively-sized adults—run from him in terror on the occasion he was spotted. But little Sportacus willingly visited him daily, talked to him, _read_ to him. No one had ever taken a liking to Robbie like that before. He had thought he had found a mate once, but even they had been more interested in the act rather than the bond. Getting close to others never really worked out the way he hoped. Sportacus, Robbie realized, was the first soul to ever care about him. And they wasn’t even the same species.

“I’m back!” the child called from the top of the stairs, interrupting Robbie’s troubling train of thought.

The kit skipped happily down the stairs, carrying a tray in their arms. Sportacus set it down as close as they dared to Robbie before picking a sandwich and a bowl of fruit from the assortment and retreating a few paces to sit and eat. Robbie was still partially preoccupied with the realizations that had invaded his mind in the kit’s absence, but the pull of food managed to get him to his feet.

Evidently, the ever-hopeful Sportacus still hadn’t given up on getting Robbie to eat some fruits or vegetables; a good portion of the tray was dedicated to the colorful nasty things. He quickly passed them up for the small pile of cookies and scoop of ice cream. He laid down, happily licking at the ball of frozen goodness.

“You need to eat healthier,” Sportacus giggled from where they watched their houseguest. “I wish you’d eat more than just desserts.”

Robbie grumbled and licked one of the nearby sausages before going back to his ice cream, as if to say ‘there, I touched it, happy now?’

“I don’t know why you don’t eat any sportscandy. It’s great! I bet you’d like it if you tried it.”

Robbie huffed.

“Mom said that Dad always called fruits and vegetables sportscandy. He said it made it more fun to eat.”

The creature rolled his eyes.

Sportacus picked at some of the berries in their bowl, clearly mulling over a few thoughts, before speaking. “Once you’re all healed up, Robbie…do you think you’ll ever come back to visit?”

He stopped lapping at his ice cream and looked up, ears suddenly alert.

“I mean, you don’t _have_ to, but…it’d be nice getting to see you sometimes after you go. I bet your other friends really miss you, though. Y-you know, I didn’t think about that until now. They must miss you really badly! I wish I could let them know you’re okay.” They looked up at the creature. “Do you have a family, Robbie?”

His ears slowly dropped back and he found himself suddenly staring at the boy’s feet rather than their face. He didn’t want to admit that Sportacus was the closest thing he _had_ to family, because that alone was a very depressing thought. The person who had essentially kidnapped him and was literally holding him in a basement was the closest thing he had to a family.

“You miss them, huh?” the boy asked, completely oblivious to the creature’s emotional distress. “Don’t worry, Robbie. You’re healing really quick and you’ll see them again soon. I promise.”

Hard promise to keep. Robbie stared down at the melting remnants of his ice cream scoop. Suddenly he didn’t feel quite as hungry as he had a minute ago. The creature sighed and rested his chin on the floor. Sportacus bit his lip, noticing the change in his unlikely friend’s demeanor.

“Robbie?” they ventured. “Are you okay? I’m sorry if I upset you…please don’t be sad. Everything’ll be okay.”

The kit really needed to cool it on the eternal optimism shtick.

The two stayed that way for a while. Sportacus nibbled on his sportscandy meal and Robbie, eventually, went back to lapping up his melted ice cream before it went to waste. He decided to appease the boy by gnawing on one of the sausages left on the tray as well. Sportacus practically cheered at the sight of Robbie eating actual food. Robbie did his best to ignore them.

Meal complete, Robbie got to his feet. He stretched and winced only briefly as he cracked his back and joints. He really _was_ healing well. Sportacus stared at him from across the room as Robbie strode through his tiny, messy basement kingdom. The creature couldn’t help but give a guttural chuckle when he spotted some half-chewed bit of food fall from the kit’s mouth.

“Robbie! That…that sounded _painful_!” the boy cried.

It took him a minute to realize to what Sportacus was referring. Grinning slyly, Robbie stretched again for an encore of cracks and pops. He twisted his thick neck as well for good measure. The child looked absolutely horrified at the biological chorus. Sportacus visibly shuddered. The faint sting under his bandages was worth it.

“I, uh, guess I should get going. I need to start making dinner soon.” Sportacus moved to get up. They frowned, digging in their pocket before letting out a gasp and pulling out what looked like a crumpled bundle of paper and foil. “Oh, Robbie, your chocolate! I completely forgot, I’m sorry!” The kit unwrapped the chocolate and held out the treat to show it to their companion.

Robbie sniffed the air, licked his jowls, and quickly wandered over. He reached out and grabbed the candy with his dark tongue, pulling it into his mouth and continuing on his way without a second thought.

Sportacus blinked. The boy stared down at their now empty hand for a few seconds, then back up at Robbie, who was busy staring up at the basement window to gauge the time of day, then looked back down at their hand. A smile quickly appeared on the child’s face, spreading from one ear to the other.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Robbie!” the kit cried excitedly, suddenly overflowing with energy anew. “I’ll bring you a _big_ breakfast, too, I promise!”

Robbie turned and watched the kit frolic up the stairs and disappear once again. He didn’t see the boy again for days.


	7. Chapter 7

It had been three days. He was out of water and all that was left on the food tray were some vegetables and a few half-eaten bits of fruit. Robbie hated to eat the things, but he was getting desperate, and at least they kept him slightly hydrated. Now and then he heard noises above him—thuds, shuffling, bangs, muffled voices—but that was all. No one came to the cellar door. No food, no Sportacus, no anyone.

Robbie could no longer deny his worry. He was concerned about his obvious predicament, yes, but _why_ had Sportacus disappeared? For all he knew, something horrible had happened and the kit was dead or dying. Or, he reminded himself, they could be perfectly fine…but if that was the case, then _where were they?_

The creature paced the room, turning when he met the wall to retrace his steps and repeat the same pattern he had already walked at least a hundred times. Robbie scratched his claws on the floor anxiously as he went. His stomach rumbled and the creature did his best to ignore it; he couldn’t do anything about that right now. Honestly, he couldn’t do anything about…well, _anything_. Robbie didn’t like feeling so helpless. He should be up there hunting for Sportacus right now.

He had tried to figure out how to open the door yesterday to no avail. The structure was littered with deep claw marks as evidence of his attempt to escape, but no sign of success. Robbie moaned in frustration, the miserable sound all but a howl that echoed off the basement walls. There was movement from somewhere above, but it soon quieted. Where was Sportacus? Where was the stupid human-elf kit? They wouldn’t just leave Robbie down here…they promised to be back just the next morning. They had promised.

Robbie found himself back at his tattered nest. He stared at the torn face of the superhero at his feet. He let out a low growl and curled up in the pile of blankets, kneading them in an attempt to soothe himself. He wasn’t sure how long he was sitting there working at the blankets when there came a creak from the top of the staircase. Robbie spun around, instantaneously focusing all his senses on the door, watching as someone came through and shut it behind them.

The boy slowly made their way down the stairs. They took each step with care, barely able to see over the full tray they were carrying. Robbie was relieved to see the kit in one piece. He practically leapt from his store of blankets to greet the child at the bottom step. He gurgled happily in greeting, but couldn’t stop the accompanying whine that had built up in his throat upon realizing the kit had finally come back.

“Sorry, Robbie.”

The creature’s tail lowered to the floor. His ears drooped slightly. That quiet, sad voice didn’t sound like Sportacus. Robbie watched as the child shuffled over to their usual food delivery spot and set the tray down. Sportacus wasn’t right; the boy didn’t look like themselves and they didn’t sound like themselves either. This was just as distressing as not knowing where they had been the last three days. Robbie whined in concern, watching the kit shamble away from the tray with sagging shoulders. Where was the boy’s smile? Sportacus didn’t look right without their smile.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” the kit mumbled quietly as they took a seat by the wall. “You can eat now. I…I got all I could. Sorry there’s no cake.”

Robbie’s ears pressed against his skull. To hell with the food; he needed to know Sportacus was alright. He padded closer to the kit, sniffing the air around them. Something was off, something subtle, but he didn’t know what it was. Sportacus looked surprised to see him so close.

“Y…you have food, Robbie,” they said, pointing at the tray. “And…and there’s water. You should have some.”

Robbie stood still and watched the kit. A small frown tugged at the edges of Sportacus’ lips and Robbie decided that the expression didn’t suit them at all.

“Robbie, you haven’t had anything i-in days. You need to eat. G-go eat.”

As if to show its agreement, Robbie’s stomach growled. He ignored it and took a few more steps forward. Sportacus stiffened, unsure what to do. Robbie leaned close, sniffling as the kit’s arm before moving up to their face and stupid hat. Sportacus didn’t move a muscle. They followed Robbie’s movements only with their eyes, holding a nervous breath and unsure what to do.

Sportacus seemed to be in one piece. But the dark circles under their eyes and the way they held themselves just…weren’t right. Robbie narrowed his gaze as he inspected the boy’s cheek. He didn’t like that thick line running across it; it looked lightly bruised. He didn’t care for the marks around the kit’s right wrist, either. Robbie perked an ear forward when he heard another stomach growl…only this one hadn’t come from him. With a decisive snort, the creature turned away and walked back to the tray of food. Sportacus relaxed with a quiet sigh.

“Huh? Robbie…what are you—?”

The creature carefully dragged the tray of food across the basement by one of its handles. He navigated the mess on the floor with relative ease before bringing the food to a stop within arm’s reach of the child. He sat on the opposite side of the meal and waited.

Sportacus looked unsure. “Y-you want me to eat something?”

Robbie narrowed his eyes. Just because Sportacus had human and elven blood in their veins didn’t mean the kit had to be so stupid _all_ the time.

Slowly, the child reached out a hand and plucked an apple from the small selection of healthier food items. Robbie watched them closely. Sportacus took a bite, chewing deliberately as they watched for any sort of reaction from Robbie, then swallowed. Satisfied, the creature finally bent his head down to pick through the selection for the sweetest items first. Sportacus continued to eat their apple.

In the end, Robbie ate every decent thing available. Sportacus, still hadn’t fully returned to their usual peppy self, but at least almost all of the sportscandy was gone and they still held a half-eaten stalk of celery. Robbie lapped up as much of the fresh water as he could.

“I’m sorry I disappeared,” Sportacus nearly whispered. “I…I couldn’t get back down here ‘till now. I’m…” They sniffled. “I’m glad you’re okay. I-I was r-really worried about you.”

Robbie glanced up. His head snapped to attention with immediate worry when he caught sight of tears in the kit’s eyes. What was wrong now? Sportacus was back, they had had something to eat…what else was wrong? He inched closer, uncertain what to do.

Sportacus sniffled and wiped their eyes. “I was so scared I-I’d come down and you’d be…” The kit shook their head violently. “…an…and it’d be all my fault and…” Sportacus whimpered, dropping the bit of celery in favor of covering their eyes.

Robbie whimpered. The boy was starting to cry. Sportacus was crying. What should he do? He never knew exactly what to do with kits and this one wasn’t even his own kind. What did humans do to help one another when a kit cried? What did elves do? The creature shifted uncomfortably.

“I m-messed up really bad,” Sportacus continued. “I-I shouldn’t have taken so much food from the kitchen and…” They sniffled again, louder this time. They were shaking slightly. “At least she didn’t come down here and find you…” The boy looked up again, eyes puffy and red. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

Sportacus didn’t _seem_ happy. Robbie sighed, racking his brain to figure out the best course of action here. The boy was miserable and he didn’t like it. Robbie tried to sift through all he knew about the kit, searching for anything that might make them feel better. What would make Sportacus happy?

Robbie grimaced and wrinkled his nose when he realized what might help the situation. He scooted closer to the boy, sniffing at them again. Sportacus watched and tried to keep their sniffles as quiet as possible when the creature leaned in close again. Robbie sighed and hunched his shoulders, leveling his neck so he would be face-to-face with the boy. Sportacus swallowed nervously.

“Your eyes are really pretty,” the kit offered at a whisper. “Th-they’re like silver.”

Robbie closed his eyes, lowering his head just slightly, and stayed still. He sat there—a rather uncomfortable position to keep, actually—until he heard the boy move before him.

Sportacus cautiously reached out a shaking hand. They moved as slowly as possible, like they were afraid of what Robbie’s reaction might be. With a tightly held breath, the boy carefully placed their fingertips on the purple creature’s forehead. Robbie stayed still, though he did move his eyes to watch Sportacus’ reaction. The boy’s mouth hung open and their bright blue eyes were as wide as they could possibly get. Hesitantly, Sportacus carefully rested the rest of their hand on Robbie’s smooth skin.

The kit’s palm was a little sweaty, but Robbie did his best to ignore it. Now wasn’t the time for petty complaints.

“I forgot how soft your hair was,” the boy whispered in awe as they gently brushed their fingers over the pompadour-shaped outcrop atop Robbie’s head.

The creature scowled. The kit had touched his mane when he was unconscious? How dare—no, no. Now was not the time. At least they were being gentle in their touch.

Sportacus smiled as they continued to run their fingers through Robbie’s mane. “It’s so soft…” Sportacus scrunched their face, looking at Robbie in detail now that he was so close. “It’s like…it looks almost like skinny little feathers, but it’s hair. That’s so cool. No wonder it feels so neat!”

At least the kit seemed to be enjoying themselves. Who knew that letting the brat pet him would be the thing that made Sportacus forget all their worries? Robbie had to admit, too, that the boy’s soft touch felt rather nice. He closed his eyes and felt his shoulders begin to relax as Sportacus let their fingertips trace around his ears before trailing down to his cheek. Robbie startled slightly when the kit started to scratch lightly under his chin.

“Sorry! I just thought…”

Robbie relaxed again, leaning into the touch now that he was ready for it.

“Oh. You want me to keep going?”

Robbie nudged the boy’s hand in response and was soon rewarded with more chin scratches. The creature sighed in utter contentment at the touch. He was always incredibly protective of his person, hesitant to let any other being touch him for fear of pain or attack, but at the moment he had no idea why. This felt— _was_ —amazing, and he wanted more.

Sportacus giggled. “You’re practically purring! It’s like you’re a big cat,” they teased.

Robbie ignored the kit’s comments. He wasn’t _purring_. His chest just… _hummed_ a little bit when he felt so incredibly relaxed. He wasn’t some stupid animal. He was just happy. Who wouldn’t be if the child’s magic fingers were caressing their jawline? Robbie didn’t want this to end.

“Thanks, Robbie.”

Thanks? Thanks for what? If anything, _he_ should be thanking the boy right about now.

“Y-you’re my best friend, you know,” Sportacus mumbled.

Robbie opened one eye to look at the kit. Really? That was sad.

“I thought you hated me.”

He had. At first. Sportacus might be annoying, stupid, and a little too twitchy for his liking, but…the hybrid kit wasn’t all bad.

“Ever since I had to move here it’s just been…really lonely. None of the kids at school wanted to be friends. They all think I’m weird.”

While Robbie couldn’t fault the other children for being observant, that was no reason to ostracize the boy.

“So I…I’ve kind of had to make my own fun playing by myself a lot.” Sportacus sighed. “I didn’t mean to get that troll mad. I…I kind of fell on him,” the boy admitted with a sheepish smile. “I’m just glad we were able to get away! That was kind of scary, huh?”

Robbie grunted in agreement, closing his eyes again in favor of the soft scratches still sweeping his chin and throat.

“I don’t like that you got hurt, but…but making that troll mad was the best thing that ever happened,” Sportacus continued with a slight sniffle. “I got to meet you, Robbie. You’re amazing.”

Well, that much was true.

“I’m glad we met. You’ve made everything better.”

Robbie stared up at the ceiling while the boy continued to scratch and pet. How had he made things better for Sportacus? He hadn’t _done_ anything. He had torn up the boy’s blanket, his aunt’s clothes, broken things all over the basement, left claw marks on the floor, wall, and door…how had any of that made things _better_?

Sportacus slowed in their caresses. The kit gently stroked Robbie’s shoulder and experimentally touched one of the creature’s relaxed spines. They grinned. “So cool,” Sportacus whispered quietly. “They’re like your hair only…really stiff and scary-lookin’.”

Robbie straightened up. Yes, he _was_ a rather magnificent specimen of his species if he did say so himself.

Sportacus paused, thinking for a second, then slowly—allowing more than enough time for the creature to pull away—wrapped their arms around Robbie’s slender shoulders for a hug. Robbie stiffened, his spines twitching at the alien touch. He looked down at the kit, at this stupid, lonely, caring child, and felt something…strange. He felt…protective?

Sportacus may be jumpy and talkative and smile more than anything Robbie had ever met in his life, but somewhere along the line, everything annoying about the boy had become almost endearing. The kit had, with no real plan in place, dragged Robbie home in the hopes of nursing him back to health simply because he had been hurt. Hell, while the kit’s _own life_ had still been in danger, Sportacus had tried to help Robbie escape the troll’s grasp by throwing those stupid rocks at it. Sportacus had cared about him before knowing a single thing about Robbie.

Not to mention the fact that they had _made_ him Robbie with the simple offering of a name.

He wrapped his long tail around the child and rested his chin on the boy’s back. Sportacus sniffled and pressed their face into the purple creature’s muscular neck with a whimper. Robbie let them.

Some time later, Robbie found himself back in his blanket nest, comfortably stretched out and ready for sleep, though the creature was finding it hard to slow his thoughts enough to do so. Sportacus breathed evenly beside him, curled up tightly against Robbie’s paprika-colored underbelly. He curled his tail protectively around them both before reaching over and tugging at the edge of a blanket with his teeth to cover the sleeping kit. Tonight, he would make sure Sportacus stayed safe.


	8. Chapter 8

“Robbie, stop it,” Sportacus scolded firmly. “Running away won’t help.”

The creature hissed at the stupid kit.

Sportacus gave him a look. “Put your spines down. Those things are sharp when you stick ‘em up like that!”

Robbie grumbled and looked at the wall, giving an extra disgruntled huff. He flexed his spines in faux warning before relaxing them against his back.

“Thank you, Robbie,” Sportacus said as they continued to work on unwrapping a bandage on the creature’s leg. “I really overdid these, didn’t I?” the boy asked as they worked. “No wonder they’ve stayed on so well.”

The creature sighed and tried his best to block out the feeling of the kit tugging at his leg. Robbie looked over at the pile of bandages nearby. Judging by the still-growing pile, Sportacus had gone far beyond overkill and had probably used up the house’s entire store of first aid materials when they brought Robbie home that day. If nothing else, the kit had certainly been determined to make sure Robbie would be alright. No wonder he had been finding it hard to move with these things on him everywhere.

“Okay,” Sportacus said with a smile as they tossed the current strip onto the heap. “That one’s done. How does it feel?”

Robbie stretched his leg. It tingled slightly, but that could easily have been from laying in such an uncomfortable position for so long. He pulled it back underneath himself and yawned.

“Robbie, no! There’s still one more I’ve got to do. Don’t go to sleep!”

Robbie closed his eyes with a smirk.

“Robbie!” Sportacus whined in protest.

The creature sighed and reluctantly sat back up with an unhappy grumble in his throat. He stretched his back until it gave a satisfying crack. Sportacus shuddered and made a face at the sound, but didn’t say anything about it this time. The boy scooted closer to Robbie, sitting in front of him. The creature reared up slightly to give them better access to his remaining bandages.

“This one might, um…take a little bit,” the kit warned.

Robbie gave an annoyed growl but remained still as Sportacus set to work unwrapping his middle. This was going to take forever and he was already uncomfortable sitting like this. Why did the kit have to care about him _so_ much that he used up so many bandages? This was ridiculous.

“I guess you’ll be going soon now,” Sportacus realized as they worked. “Maybe in a couple days I can sneak you out? I think Aunt Oliva will be gone most of the day. I bet you’re super excited, huh?”

Robbie’s conflict kept him silent.

He glanced down at the boy. He didn’t like the shadowy mark that was peeking out from Sportacus’ shirt collar. Robbie wasn’t sure what was going on that the kit always seemed to have so many little scratches and bruises—the boy was clumsy, but not enough to warrant _all_ of them—and he didn’t know what he could do about it.

Robbie felt like he had been sitting there for ages when he heard Sportacus say two words one never wants to hear when their injuries are being inspected.

“Oh no.”

Robbie looked down in concern. What _oh no_? There shouldn’t be an _oh no_.

“This might…sting,” Sportacus said slowly.

The kit sounded nervous. That didn’t bode well. Robbie looked down to see what worrisome thing Sportacus was talking about when there was a sudden stabbing pain in his side. Robbie roared in alarm and surprise before stumbling back from the child. His spines shot up and he fumbled with his foreclaws to cover whatever Sportacus had done. He doubled over to protect the injury.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” the boy shrieked. “It had to come off, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Robbie hissed loudly at the boy, all spines on edge. Sportacus gasped and scrambled away. The two stared at one another for a tense moment before Robbie’s rational brain took hold of him once again. He blinked, spines slowly relaxing as his eyes met Sportacus’. He winced, not from pain, but guilt. The kit’s blue eyes were as round as the moon…they looked terrified. Terrified of Robbie.

The creature tried to forget the look on the boy’s face and opted to look down at the bit of blood on his claws instead. The edge of Sportacus’ bandage had gotten itself stuck in Robbie’s healing wound; it had been reopened when the boy tried to remove it. Now that the shock of it all was over, Robbie found that it didn’t actually hurt all that much. He had frightened the kit over a mild sting and a trickle of blood that was already stopping on its own. Sportacus had probably thought Robbie was going to lash out and attack them. The mere thought made him feel a bit nauseated.

He dropped back to all fours, if only to seem less threatening, and walked over to the boy. His eyes drifted to the floor when the kit pulled away. He gave an apologetic gurgle, lowered his head, and stretched out his neck. It took a moment, but Robbie soon felt Sportacus’ hand brush through his black, feathery mane. He smiled in relief and let out a short accompanying sigh. Sportacus scratched gently behind his ears and Robbie hoped that meant that he was forgiven for the outburst.

Robbie looked up at the kit. Sportacus’ usual smile was a shadow of its usual self, but seeing the guilt in the creature’s eyes seemed to bring it back, at least a little. Robbie scooted closer and was relieved to see Sportacus didn’t shy away. He leaned in and nudged the child’s shoulder with his snout. Sportacus scratched his cheek.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Robbie. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. Are…are you okay?”

Was he okay? Sportacus was _sorry_ for _scaring_ him? Robbie pulled his head back and stared at the kit. Robbie had roared at them, probably made the boy wonder if they were about to be eaten, and they were apologizing to _him_? Robbie snorted and shook his head at the perplexing bit of human logic.

“No you’re not okay?” Sportacus asked worriedly.

Robbie rolled his eyes. Kits were so stupid. He quickly gave the boy’s shoulder a reassuring nuzzle before he twisted himself around to lick at his reopened wound. It wasn’t bad at all, and it certainly was nice to be able to _move_ again now that all those stupid bandage strips were gone for good.

Sportacus nervously wet their lips before speaking. “I’m glad you healed so well…and so fast, too,” the boy said softly as they watched their friend’s excuse for hygiene. “Mom said I heal pretty quick, too.” Sportacus let out an awkward laugh. “We can be super-healing-buddies,” they joked.

Robbie rolled his eyes again, but let Sportacus have their fun. The kit sighed and reached out to stroke Robbie’s shoulder. Robbie glanced at their hand, then went back to licking his wound until it was satisfactory. When he turned back around, he noticed that Sportacus had a strange, faraway look in their eye. He nudged the kit’s arm for an explanation.

“Oh, sorry, was I not petting enough?” they asked. “Here…”

Sportacus shifted their position and brought both hands up to scratch Robbie’s chin and neck again. The creature hummed and practically melted into the boy’s lap at the touch.

Sportacus sighed. “I wish I could go with you when you leave.”

Robbie looked up at the kit curiously.

They sniffled. “I bet you’ve been so many cool places…you’re totally free out there, aren’t you, Robbie? It must be amazing. Hey, maybe you can show me where you live or something and I can come visit _you_ sometimes, too!”

That might work if Robbie had a definitive home, but the kit didn’t need to know he was a drifter. Sportacus seemed rather happy with the idea. Robbie gurgled in his throat in the hopes Sportacus would take it was a positive answer.

“I can’t wait to see it. You can introduce me to your friends and everything. I hope they like me. Do you think they’ll like me?”

Robbie huffed. The kid wasn’t going to drop the idea, were they?

“I wish I could go with you,” Sportacus mumbled yet again, this time sounding a bit sadder than before. “It’s gonna be lonely without you around. You’re awesome, Robbie.”

Hard to argue with that.


	9. Chapter 9

Sportacus was already there with food when Robbie awoke the next day. No cake, but at least there were cookies and some strange little swirly things that Sportacus called _peppermints_ that were rather tasty in their own right. The kit made another attempt to clean some corner of the basement again, but quickly gave up on the hopeless endeavor and rejoined Robbie in the blanket nest. They brought with them the wretched _Jessie Jumper_ book, apparently determined that the creature be subjected to the entirety of its contents.

Though Robbie hated to admit it, he had started to enjoy Sportacus’ insistence on reading to him. He had never given the notion of reading much thought; humans did it all the time, he knew, but out in the hills it wasn’t exactly an important skill. Now, though, the idea of being able to read human words seemed to be a rather interesting concept. The strange little symbols on each page corresponded to things he could see in the illustrations or, as it turned out, images he could conjure in his own head. Robbie rather liked the idea of being able to create or partake in a story without having to interact with anyone.

The creature readjusted himself to get a better view of Sportacus’ book. Sure, it was just their stupid _Jessie Jumper_ story again, but…it was practice. Robbie had begun trying to follow along with the words on the page as Sportacus read to him in an attempt to commit some of them to memory. He was already starting to recognize a few of the most common ones and was sure that it wouldn’t take him long to master the art entirely. Just because he didn’t care for this book in particular didn’t mean that there could be at least _some_ value to its existence. Too bad Sportacus couldn’t choose a different—better—book to read from.

“’Ha!’ Renegade yelled. ‘I won and you lost! I win first place! I am number one and you are number _two_!’” Sportacus read as Robbie looked across the scene of the rabbit beating the blue kangaroo in a race. “’I know!’ Jessie said with her biggest smile. ‘You did great! That race was a lot of fun!’ Renegade looked mad. ‘How come you’re so happy?’ he asked, thumping his foot. ‘You _lost_!’”

Robbie didn’t fully understand the logic either. This kangaroo story made no sense from start to finish. Why was the kit so obsessed with the stupid book?

“’I know, but I still had fun racing with you,’ Jessie replied.”

Robbie was going to hear the entirety of this children’s book whether he wanted to or not, wasn’t he? As if to confirm his worst fears, Sportacus leaned back against him and pulled one of the blankets up around their feet. The creature tensed for the briefest second before allowing himself to relax beside the child. They snuggled comfortably into his side. Robbie found himself yawning.

“’It is always nice to have fun with your friends.’ Renegade Rabbit looked surprised. ‘But we’re not friends…are we?’ he asked Jessie. ‘We can if you want to be,’ Jessie replied. ‘Everyone can make friends, Renegade, even you!’ Renegade Rabbit thought about that for a minute. ‘We can still be friends even after I was so mean to everybody?’ he asked. ‘Of course!’ Jessie said. ‘You just have to choose not to be mean anymore and tell everyone you’re sorry. Friends shouldn’t be mean to each other. They’re supposed to be, well, _friendly_!’”

Robbie rolled his eyes at the story’s simplicity, but didn’t interrupt Sportacus’ reading.

“’It would be nice to have friends,’ said Renegade. He turned to Jessie’s friends who had come to watch the race. ‘I’m sorry, everyone.’ The other animals did not look convinced. ’How come you were so mean to all of us?’ Cordelia asked. ‘Yeah,’ Sydney said, ‘Not just us but Mr. Goanna and his poor trees, too!’”

That _was_ true; the stupid rabbit had done a number on the lizard’s orchard, Robbie recalled. He blinked and shook his head. Why did he remember that?

“Renegade Rabbit hung his head. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I’ve just been really mad lately and…and I guess if I couldn’t be happy, I didn’t want anyone else to be happy either.’ Jessie looked sad. ‘Oh no!’ she cried. ‘Why have you been so mad?’ Renegade Rabbit said ‘I don’t fit in around here and I miss my mom and my brothers and sisters a lot.’ Jessie gasped. ‘Where are they?’ she asked her new friend. Renegade looked rather unhappy. ‘They’re really far away. I don’t have any money to go see them, so I’ve been really sad, and I guess I took it out on all of you. I’m really sorry.’”

Robbie stared at the picture of the rabbit and the kangaroo hugging once Sportacus turned to the next page. The book was stupid, the story made no sense, the main character was _blue_ …and for some reason he was feeling rather uncomfortable with the subject matter, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. The creature shifted his weight slightly and rested his strong chin on Sportacus’ knee, done with his attempts at reading for now.

“’That’s not a problem at all! Come on, everyone, let’s help Renegade see his family!’ Jessie jumped as high as she could and clapped her paws. Cordelia and Sydney looked at each other, then back at their friend. ‘Well,’ Cordelia said with a sigh, ‘if he promises not to be mean anymore, I guess we can help.’ ‘Yeah,’ Sydney added, ‘I know _I’d_ be really sad if I couldn’t be with _my_ family. We forgive you, Renegade. You can be our friend…and we always help our friends wherever we can!’”

Robbie briefly glanced up at the kit. If nothing else, he realized, the stupid blue kangaroo book had probably helped in giving Sportacus their tenacity for helping others, even if the one in need of help was from an entirely different species and could bite their head off without a second thought. That Jumpy kangaroo had instilled some very dangerous values in the boy.

Unaware of Robbie’s epiphany, Sportacus continued. “Jessie was very proud of all of her friends, and hopped up and down to show it. ‘Alright, then! Let’s all help our new friend Renegade!’ All of the animals counted their pocket money, and soon Renegade Rabbit had a plane ticket to see his family again!”

What in the world was a plane ticket?

“‘Thank you, Cordelia. Thank you, Sydney. And thank you most of all, Jessie! You’re my new best friend,’ Renegade cried before he got on the plane. Renegade promised to write to his new friends and send them pictures of him and his family once he got home. Renegade Rabbit didn’t seem so mean anymore; he was a great pen pal instead.”

Robbie huffed, but forced himself to look at the last pages of the book when Sportacus displayed the pictures in front of him. The rabbit was posing in the middle of a group of other rabbits. He supposed that was the thing’s family. Simple enough to understand. The rabbit went home, tra-la-la friendship all around, good riddance, thank gods it was finished.

Sportacus gently closed the picture book and set it on the floor beside Robbie’s nest. “Did you like it?”

Robbie just gave him a look.

The kit laughed. “Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

The creature sighed and flicked an ear.

“I know they’re a little silly, but I like them. They make me think of Mom. And Dad, too…kind of. I mean, I never got to meet him, but Mom said he was kind of like Jessie Jumper in a way, so…” The boy trailed off for a minute. They shook their head and set the book carefully outside the nest.

Robbie lifted his head, ears twitching when he heard the boy sigh. The child always seemed so sad when they talked about their parents. Robbie could barely remember his own; his father had died when he was just a kit himself, and his mother had never been quite the same after that. He absently wondered if she was still alive.

“Do you think my Dad would like me?” the kit asked.

Robbie blinked, unsure how to respond to that. Hell, _he_ wasn’t sure how he had ended up liking the brat, so how in the world could he tell whether the boy’s father would….no. No, Robbie knew. How could the elf _not_ fall in love with Sportacus? If he was a true father in any sense, he would adore the boy. He would want to protect Sportacus with every fiber of his being, make sure they were happy and safe and looked after. Besides, even if he didn’t, Sportacus was so persistent in his quest to love everyone and everything that the man wouldn’t really have a choice in the matter anyway.

Sportacus pulled the blanket up around his knees, drawing his legs close. Robbie gurgled deep in his throat as he comfortingly nuzzled the kit’s shoulder.

“I tried to look him up once in computer class,” Sportacus mumbled, “But I didn’t even know his full name to do it. Mom just called him Íþró.”

Well that was a strange-sounding name, Robbie decided. Then again, the boy had a fairly… _unique_ name as well. He wasn’t sure if it was an elf thing or a human thing, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the kit came from a long line of weirdly named bouncy fruit addicts in general.

“I guess it’d be hard to track down an elf anyway. Mom said that they’re really good at hiding or something. Too bad I’m…”

Robbie realized that the boy had stopped talking. He then noticed the slight sag in the kit’s shoulders and nudged them gently with his snout. Sportacus smiled and wrapped their arms around the creature’s neck. He sighed, but didn’t make any further fuss about the gesture. Sportacus’ grabby-clingy ways were a little much, but Robbie was finding it easy to get used to the boy’s warm touch. He almost dared to admit he liked it. Almost.

“Thanks, Robbie. I just really miss my Mom, sometimes…but I haven’t had to be lonely at all since I met you. I’m gonna miss you when you go tomorrow. I hope I get to see you again. But I’m glad we get to hang out today, at least, so we can—”

The kit’s words were interrupted by a loud slam above their heads that echoed through the walls around them. Sportacus fell silent instantly, their eyes wide and glued to the ceiling. Their hold on Robbie’s neck tightened.

“She’s not supposed to be home yet,” the kit whispered with a surprisingly tiny and trembling voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the picture ain't the best, but...people are hard. And fabric is hard. And...drawing is hard. XD
> 
> Enjoy the fluff because shit just hit the fan.


	10. Chapter 10

Robbie wasn’t entirely certain what was going on, but he knew that whatever was happening, it wasn’t good. He gurgled for the clearly upset kit, but found his attempts to calm were ignored.

“No, no, no,” Sportacus whimpered to themselves as they scrambled out of the nest and stumbled toward the staircase.

Robbie was on his feet in an instant. He bounded between Sportacus and the stairs, giving the boy a light growl. What was the kit _doing_? He knew the child could be a complete idiot, but running _toward_ the mysterious danger was just too much. He had been worried sick for three days when Sportacus disappeared through that door and he did not want to go through that again. He needed Sportacus to stay down _here_ this time. The kit would _not_ be running into the jaws of danger and leaving him to worry.

Sportacus, meanwhile, didn’t seem to know just how to process the creature’s actions. “Robbie, what are you doing?”

He gave another small growl and flexed his spines.

“Robbie, move!” the kit begged. “I have to get up there! She’ll kill me if I’m not home! I’m supposed to be doing laundry right now!”

She would _kill_ him? Sportacus wasn’t making a very good argument convincing Robbie to let them leave, were they? The creature dug his claws into the cement floor and stubbornly huffed. The boy’s eyes were a flurry of panic and they were beginning to tremble. The child tried to dodge left; Robbie flung up his tail. Sportacus attempted to go right; Robbie threw out his chin to block them. The boy whined in distress.

 “Robbie _please_!” they cried. “You don’t understand I _have_ to go up there! Bad things will happen if I don’t!”

He got the feeling that bad things would happen if they _did_.

Robbie growled when the boy then tried to make a run for it. They dipped left, then quickly tried again to dash right. With a gulp, Sportacus leaped over the creature’s bowed head. They tucked into themselves, flipping through the air over Robbie’s head. Sportacus uttered a grunt when they landed just beyond Robbie’s immediate reach. The kit stumbled, narrowly escaping injury from their rough landing, and made a break for the staircase while he creature snarled behind them and tried to lunge and reclaim the child. Robbie cried out in desperation, but the kit was simply too fast for him.

“Go hide, Robbie! I’ll come back when it’s safe, just hide!” the boy yelled over their shoulder before forcing the door open and disappearing from his view.

Robbie’s ears fell, his eyes wide and his long jaw slack. Sportacus was gone. The stupid kit had run right into the banging, shouting danger overhead and he had been helpless to stop them. M-maybe Sportacus would be fine, he tried to unsuccessfully convince himself. After all, who knew the boy had moves like _that_? Sure, the boy was twitchy and jumpy, but…

He whined with worry as he kept his eyes still glued on the faraway door. The sounds above had ceased and Robbie wasn’t sure if that should put him at ease or make him fear for the boy’s safety that much more. He wanted Sportacus to return. Whatever ‘she’ was, Robbie wanted to make sure Sportacus was safe from its threat.

The sound of shuffling trickled down from above and Robbie paced nervously near the bottom of the stairs. There was a voice. He couldn’t make out the words, but it was loud, and it sounded anything but pleasant. The sliver of light at the bottom of the basement door suddenly disappeared and Robbie felt his body stiffen. Something—someone?—was right there. He hoped it was Sportacus…unharmed and smiling again, come to announce the danger had passed. But the shouting continued and he very much doubted things were alright.

The door creaked slowly open and Robbie was suddenly stricken with the intense urge to run away. Staying still hadn’t helped him with the troll, and somehow he _knew_ that whatever this danger was, it was on some level worse than even that beast. He wanted Sportacus safe. He _needed_ the child to be safe…but he was so afraid, and he was such a coward.

“No! Auntie Oliva, please don’t! It’s okay, you don’t have— _ahhh!_ Aunt Olivia, you don’t have to—!”

“Get out of the _way_ , Alex!” a sharp voice interrupted. “ _Move!_ ”

There were heavy footfalls on the stairs and Robbie quickly found himself tucked into a pile of old clothes and holiday decorations. His skin tingled only briefly as a wave rippled down his back. Without his bandages, he _should_ be able to blend in with his surroundings properly again. He had to hope that it was enough.

He watched as an unfamiliar pair of legs descended the stairs. Robbie felt his spines stiffen, entire body frozen as he watched the scene before him. The legs were revealed to be attached to a human woman. Though she could not be labeled as tall in any capacity, her stern expression and the dark, icy aura of her eyes made her a very imposing figure to behold. She was dragging something behind her and, much to Robbie’s horror, he saw that the woman’s long, spidery fingers were latched tightly around Sportacus’ arm.

The boy looked terrified and they winced with every tug on their arm. Robbie felt his claws curl tightly into the fabric below him. She was hurting Sportacus.

“ _This_ is why you tried to keep me from coming down here?” the woman shouted in her shrill, venomous voice. “ _This_ is where you’ve been disappearing to?” she demanded.

Sportacus’ eyes darted around the basement in a panic. They looked everywhere in scared silence, clearly looking for any sign of Robbie.

“ _Answer me!_ ” the woman yelled, yanking on the child’s arm again.

Sportacus cried out, almost losing their balance. “I’m sorry, Auntie Olivia! I didn’t…I mean…”

“ _Look_ at what you’ve done! You’re not even supposed to be _down_ here and—and! _Look at this place_! It’s disgusting! You little rat!” She pulled back a hand and struck Sportacus’ cheek.

Robbie’s eyes flew wide. He froze; spines stood still, claws stiffened, breathing ceased. He stared at the red tinge that had only just begun to fade from the kit’s cheek. The boy whimpered in obvious pain at having the injury hurt all over again. Robbie now knew where the child’s bruises and scrapes had come from…and the knowledge sat in his chest like a pit of flaming coals. He wasn’t immediately aware that the growling he heard was coming from himself for a few long seconds. The despicable woman didn’t hear it over the sound of her own shrieks.

“You _look at me_ when I’ talking to you, you little brat!” she was yelling. The woman roughly pulled Sportacus’ arm again and pointed at the nearest fallen shelf. “What did you _do_ , you little monster? _Tell me_!” She groaned in irritation. “You have _no_ respect for _anyone_ , it’s disgusting! It’s absolutely disgusting! You’ve ruined _everything_! You ruin everything, you little shit, look at this mess!”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Oliva,” the boy whimpered in a trembling voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’ll clean it up, I promise. I’ll…”

“Oh you can _bet_ you’ll clean this up,” she snapped. “That’s the _least_ of what you’re gonna do. I just can’t _believe_ you! _Look at what you’ve done!_ ”

“I’m sorry,” Sportacus cried. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—!”

“Shut _up_!”

She raised her hand. Sportacus cringed in anticipation of the blow. The woman swung her arm down and hit the kit again, her palm covering almost the entire left half of the child’s face. Sportacus stumbled, the woman letting go of their arm to watch them fall to the floor from the force. The boy brought up their hands up in attempt to quell the stinging ache as they slowly collapsed in on themselves in an instinctual, defensive curl.

Robbie knew nothing but fury.

The woman’s screams barely registered in his ears as he pounced, his eyes locked on hers.

“ _KIT!_ ” the creature roared as he slammed all his weight into the disgusting human woman.

Funny…the look of fear she had so generously bestowed upon Sportacus looked much better on _her_. He tasted blood as he sank his teeth into her shoulder. The impact of her fall didn’t throw off the fervor his attack in the slightest, his all-consuming rage numbing his body to any sense of pain from impact. He pinned one of her kicking legs under his back foot, and let his foreclaws sink deep into one of her arms. His tail whipped behind him as he snarled into her wound, pulling back just slightly. Blood dripped from his teeth and chin as he made the decision that her screaming face would look much better if it shared a better resemblance with her shoulder. The woman—the monster—stared into his silver eyes in utter terror. Her teeth were chattering and it made his own itch in anticipation. He pulled back, readying for the strike, when something pulled at his leg. He spun around with a loud snarl, baring his bloodied teeth.

“Robbie, no!” the boy begged as they tugged on the creature’s heel. “ _Please_ , no! _Please_!”

The creature blinked when he met his kit’s terrified eyes. He felt the spines along his back begin to relax as he finally registered Spoartacus’ trembling hands against his skin. The boy tugged at him again.

“R-Robbie p-please don’t k-kill her,” Sportacus whimpered. “Please…please don’t.”

Robbie looked down at the shaking human beneath him. She stared up at him in horror. Her eyes continually tried to tug downward toward Sportacus, but her fear never quiet let her gaze reach them. The woman looked so small, so… _pathetic_. She was helpless beneath his claws and she knew it. One bite. That was all it would take. Just one.

“Robbie, please,” came Sportacus’ small voice from behind them. “Don’t…”

Robbie sighed, huffing his warm breath into the woman’s awful face. She let out a squeak and shut her eyes, shaking underneath him. Robbie pulled back, stepping off the disgusting excuse of a person, and looked at Sportacus. His kit’s face was red, their eyes puffy, and their hands shaking as they gently pulled again at the creature’s heel. Robbie sighed and, doing his best not to _completely_ cover the poor child’s shirt in blood, rubbed his mane against the kit’s chest and chin. Robbie felt a pair of small hands on his cheeks and looked up.

“Y-you gotta run, Robbie. You can’t come back, you have to run away!”

The creature looked back at the monster—the Aunt Olivia—and growled at the woman as she tried to scramble back away from what she had decided was a terrible and vicious beast. Robbie turned back to Sportacus when he felt a weight on his shoulder. The kit was pushing on him, trying to guide him toward the cellar stairs.

“Go! You can’t stay! They’ll come and they’ll take you and they’ll k-kill you and you’ve gotta _go_ , Robbie!”

Robbie let himself be pushed.

“Aunt Olivia, are you—?”

“Get that _goddamn_ thing away from me!” the woman screamed as she clutched her injured shoulder. “Alex, you get the _fuck_ over here and—” Her words were cut off by a deep, rumbling growl from Robbie.

Robbie gently nudged Sportacus’ elbow, beckoning the child to look at him. If he stayed, Robbie knew that more humans would come…humans that would be like all those he had met before Sportacus…afraid and angry and ready to maim and kill creatures like himself. But he couldn’t leave Sportacus here, not with the evil fiend that hurt the kit so, covering him with mark after mark and replacing them when his elven blood healed them so quickly. Robbie rubbed his cheek on the child’s arm.

“Come,” he said quietly in a thick, smooth voice.

Sportacus’ mouth hung open in shock for a moment. “Y-you can talk?” his kit whispered in amazement.

Robbie couldn’t help but smile, even if it was only slightly. Now was not the time for Sportacus to put their stupidity on full display; save it for later. He nudged the boy again instead.

“Come.”

The boy, _his_ boy…his kit…glanced back at the only blood relative they had left. Sportacus gingerly held Robbie’s mane in their shaking hands.

“Sportocuss…”

The conflict in their eyes was obvious, but the child’s smile tried to return when they looked back at Robbie and the worry in the purple creature’s eyes. Robbie’s ears perked up and he grinned. The creature circled around the boy and crouched, nodding to Sportacus. His kit smiled—a wonderful sight—and accepted the creature’s offer. They crawled onto Robbie’s back, finding his spines surprisingly soft now that they were flat against the creature’s back once more. They wrapped their arms around Robbie’s thick neck to hold on.

“Alex,” came a voice of disbelief from the corner of the basement, “Don’t you _dare_...”

Robbie glared at the woman that immediately shrank away upon meeting his gaze. He growled and, with a whip of his tail, raced up the stairs with his kit, out to freedom through the open door waiting for them.


	11. Chapter 11

Robbie hadn’t known exactly how to get _out_ of the human house, per say, but it had been a simple enough puzzle once he realized that glass could be easily broken. He kept his ears turned to his back, monitoring Sportacus’ nervous breathing and occasional whimper while the boy clung to his back.

Decisions had been made so quickly, and the weight of them was finally beginning to settle in the creature’s brain. Even so, Robbie found that, if time were rewound, he would make the commitment again. No kit deserved that sort of treatment, Sportacus least of all. The jumpy elf-human was _his_ kit now and that was all that mattered. He would keep Sportacus safe from that disgusting woman behind them and that was the most important thing.

“Robbie?” the boy asked hesitantly, “Where are we going?”

The creature huffed at him. Robbie had already been scanning the hillside for some time searching for somewhere to stop. It wouldn’t be a permanent home by any means, but they needed somewhere to stay out of sight for a while and come up with a plan. He spotted a favorable-looking spot off in the distance and started up the hill toward it.

The boy dismounted when Robbie finally stopped. The boy slid off the creature’s back onto wobbling legs that felt like gelatin that hadn’t fully solidified yet. They wrapped their arms around themselves and watched their companion anxiously as Robbie sniffed around a small opening in some rocks.

Robbie began to dig. He grunted, dislodging rocks and trying to haul the heavy loads away from the entrance. Sportacus quickly lent a hand at the task. Once the rocks were mostly cleared, Robbie nudged his kit away and motioned for the boy to sit nearby and rest while he dug out the rest of the entrance himself. The creature was panting by the end, but the small cave eventually had a satisfactory entrance. The cavity beyond was small, but it would make a decent temporary home. And it would be safe.

Robbie gurgled for Sportacus and ushered the child into the temporary den. Sportacus sat down near the far wall, squinting in the dim light as Robbie sat by their side.

“What did I do, Robbie?”

The creature tilted his head.

“Oh no…I…I ran away from home,” they whimpered. “I’m going to be in so much trouble. Aunt Olivia must be so mad! She’s gonna come find me and she’s—”

“No,” Robbie grunted.

Sportacus stopped and looked at him. “What?”

“No,” he repeated.

The boy didn’t seem to know what to say to that, so they pulled their knees up to their chest and tried to press themselves into the rocky dirt wall behind them. Robbie sighed and nudged at the boy before protectively curling around them. After a while, the trembling boy relaxed enough to lay down and, eventually, fell asleep. Robbie did not.

He stared at the wall, thinking. He didn’t know the first thing about caring for a human kit. Or an elven one, for that matter. But, he reasoned, he was sure he could do a better job than Sportacus’ blood relative, at least. So maybe things wouldn’t be so terrible. He was smart; he could figure this out. He had to.

After the sun had set, Robbie carefully untangled himself from the sleeping child. He crawled out of the den and stretched, popping his joints to satisfaction before he started back toward the human town, keeping to the shadows as best as he could manage. Though he didn’t _recognize_ the house from the outside, Robbie knew he had found the right place thanks to Sportacus’ lingering scent. Some sort of tarp had been poorly taped over the glass door he had broken earlier, which made for an easy entrance.

Robbie felt the tingle of his natural camouflage slide down his back as he slunk through the cluttered room. Nearby he could hear a low voice that he knew all too well. He couldn’t tell what she was saying, but he didn’t really care. Suppressing a growl, Robbie sniffed the air carefully. He could smell the basement from here, its stale air drifting up from below. Unfortunately, the cellar door was far too close to where he knew the woman to be; he couldn’t risk sneaking back down there with her so close. He would have to find new nesting blankets for his kit…maybe there were more somewhere else in the home. Robbie caught Sportacus’ scent easily and quickly—quietly—followed it upstairs and away from the evil woman’s rambling voice.

Sportacus’ den was easy to find, and Robbie was surprised to find how empty the room looked compared to the rest of the house. The bed looked fine, but it was strikingly bare. Robbie stared, realizing the boy had not just given him their _favorite_ blanket and sheets, but all of them. Stupid, stupid kit. Robbie sighed and turned back to survey the rest of the room.

He spotted Sportacus’ familiar blue backpack almost immediately and grabbed it. Robbie rooted around in the boxes that lined the walls, pulling out random articles of clothing he didn’t fully understand, and shoving them into the bag. He grabbed one book, then another, and a soft faux creature that resembled the character on the kit’s blanket. Robbie tilted his head and stared at a little square thing sitting on the floor nearby. He recognized Sportacus in the picture right away, but not the blue-haired woman beside them. They were both smiling, the boy looking exceptionally happy. Robbie pulled it into the bag; it seemed like something Sportacus might want. That should be enough.

Robbie grabbed the bag in his jaws and headed back down the stairway, careful to keep his balance on the way down. If he had learned anything from his time in Sportacus’ basement, it was that going down stairs was a terribly unbalancing experience. Thankfully, his time with stupid humans and their stairs was finally coming to a close; he just needed to make sure his kit had all of their human essentials and he could be rid of this awful place for good.

“No, no, I’m going back tomorrow. The assholes sent me home, can you believe it?”

Robbie froze at the base of the staircase, swiveling an ear to keep track of the Aunt Olivia as she moved about in the next room.

“I don’t like how sore it is. It’s going to be infected by tomorrow morning, I know it. Who knows what kind of germs were in that thing’s mouth.” There was a pause. “I don’t _know_ what the hell it was! It was like this giant…lizard thing! I don’t know where the hell he found it.” Another pause. “No idea. The little shit took off with the thing. God help him when I get my hands on him…I know, yeah!”

Well, she seemed confined to one room for the moment while she ranted at someone Robbie somehow couldn’t hear. So long as she stayed put, the creature really didn’t care.

He followed the scent of food to the kitchen, setting the bag down as he looked around and tried to figure out where everything was located. He had never been in a kitchen before, and the room was rather strange looking. There were a few things—only some of it food—sitting on the counters. He could also smell more hidden behind miniature doors protruding from the walls. A large off-white box stood nearby; _that_ clearly smelled of food, too. The most beautiful thing in the room, though, was a small table sitting near a window. Robbie licked his jowls at the sight of the cake sitting upon it, protected by some kind of thin clear dome. The cake was enormous compared to the pieces he had the good fortune to taste so far, and he wanted it. Oh, he wanted it.

No, no. _No!_

Robbie stopped himself, shaking his head. Sportacus’ food first, _then_ cake. Now, what sorts of things had he seen the elf-boy eat?

It only took a minute for Robbie to paw open the refrigerator door and he was quite pleased to see the selection it held for him. He grabbed nearly every piece of ‘sports candy’ that he could find and shoveled it into the bag with everything else. He still didn’t really know why his kit liked the stuff, but at least it would make them happy. Robbie munched on some leftover meatloaf that he had found in the refrigerator as he moved Sportacus’ bag aside and hopped up on the counter.

He dug his claws into the surface, having greatly misjudged how much maneuverable room there was, even for someone as thin as himself. Carefully, the creature slunk toward the best-smelling cabinets. He nudged them over and stared at the boxes and bags sitting inside. What _was_ all this stuff? Well, Sportacus would know even if he didn’t, so it was all fair game. He tried his best to grab only a few items, but keeping his balance in the process was proving difficult. A claw eventually slipped, and the creature noisily tumbled down to the floor along with an assortment of mystery foods.

Ow. He laid there for a second in painful shock. A ripple had run through his spine on impact and he knew that couldn’t be a good thing. Robbie blinked, staring at the ceiling as he heard a squeak and a series of thumps from another room. That wasn’t good, either. No time to focus on back aches. Robbie rolled over, quickly pulling as many bags and dented boxes into the blue bag as he could manage. Now what?

“—Don’t know,” he heard the Aunt Olivia woman say to her invisible companion in a hushed voice. “If it’s Alex sneaking in, _so help me_ I’m going to knock him into next Tuesday for everything he’s done.”

Time was up! How did the boy carry this thing when he had brought it down? Robbie tried to remember…his shoulder, yes—the straps!  He pulled the drawstring closed and, grumbling horribly at how misshapen human shoulders were, managed to wrestle the pack onto his back. Success! He made a dash for the hall, back toward the broken glass door to escape, but stopped short when a figure rounded the corner.

The pair stared at each other. Robbie furrowed his brow, the mere sight of the disgusting woman filling him with renewed anger. Her eyes were wide in shock ad she held the small black box to her ear with one hand, her opposite arm bandaged in a sling. Robbie could faintly hear a voice coming from the box, but the Aunt Olivia didn’t seem to notice it anymore. He arched his back and growled. His spines shot up instantly.

“Miranda, I have to go,” the human whispered in a shaky voice.

Very slowly, she brought the tiny box down from her ear, tapping it lightly with her thumb a few times. Robbie didn’t know what she was doing, but he didn’t like it. He hissed at her, spitting as he backed away a few steps. She jumped, squeaking before realizing the attack she expected wasn’t coming.

“Sh-shit,” he heard her whisper to herself. “Wh-what the f-fuck’s animal control’s n-n—”

Robbie suddenly grinned, a gesture that seemed to make the woman all the more nervous. Probably the teeth. She was scared of him. Good...maybe he should encourage that. He pushed himself up from the floor and, nice and slowly so she had more time to realize the danger, Robbie stood on two legs. He glared down at her and growled. She whimpered and dropped the little box.

“You hurt kit,” he said slowly, watching her eyes widen in terror. “You hurt kit again,” he warned darkly, “You die. Yes?”

The tiny monster before him nodded as she trembled in the doorway. “Y-yes,” she agreed, too afraid to find out what might happen if she defied the creature.

“Good.”

Robbie looked back over his shoulder at the kitchen table and licked his muzzle at the sight. He walked over, pushing off the stupid glass dome. The cake must have been enormous when whole; what remained was still as big as Sportacus’ entire head. Hmm.  He looked back up at the Aunt Oliva and gave her a toothy grin. He opened his mouth, displaying his teeth and the deepness of his maw. He easily engulfed the delicious treat, snapping his jaws shut around it. Robbie savored the literal taste of sweet, sweet victory as the woman took in the implication of Robbie’s demonstration. He swallowed his cake.

“You,” he reiterated once more, “Never hurt kit again.”

“N-no,” she whimpered, shaking her head. “N-no, no.”

Robbie smiled in triumphant satisfaction. He glanced at the window beside him and gave a slight shrug. He gave the woman a final hiss, smashed the glass, and left, leaving the wretched human in her aura of ammonia.

Robbie practically trotted the entire way back to Sportacus. The evil woman would never bother that innocent kit again. The two of them were free now. He still wasn’t entirely sure where they would go yet, but they would manage. Robbie paused, ears perking forward when he heard something he had never wanted to hear again. Sportacus was crying. He raced toward the small cave, spines at the ready. He snarled, diving at the entrance. The creature blinked, instantly confused when he found nothing inside but the boy themselves.

Sportacus looked up with large, watery eyes. “Robbie!” they cried. They launched themselves at the creature, throwing their arms around his neck. “I woke up and you were gone and I was scared you’d never come back!” they sobbed.

Robbie’s fears melted away and he nuzzled the child’s shoulder with his nose. He hadn’t thought he was gone long enough to be missed, and he felt a bad for upsetting the boy. He huffed in the kit’s ear, glad to hear him laugh from the tickle. Sportacus let go of the creature in favor of protecting his ears from any more teasing. Robbie took the opportunity to try and get the boy’s pack off of his shoulders, but found the maneuver problematic.

“Wait, that’s my…R-Robbie you went _back_?” Sportacus asked in disbelief.

He shrugged. It neither satisfied Sportacus’ curiosity, nor helped Robbie get the thing off.

“Here, let me help!” The boy tried to take the backpack’s straps and slide them off of Robbie without hurting his arm. “Oh wow you’re really tangled,” they mumbled when they spotted a dozen little holes in the bag’s material and a few spine still stuck in them. “Hang on.”

With Sportacus’ help it didn’t take very long for Robbie to once again be freed. The creature promised himself that he would _never_ wear a backpack again…no straps, never again.

“Sports candy!” the child cried excitedly when they peered inside. “Thanks, Robbie! I was really hungry! You’re the best!”

His chest couldn’t help but swell at the praise, as obvious as the statement might be. He laid down beside the boy as they munched on one of the apples. He watched Sportacus dig deeper. They put their apple aside when they found the small picture that had been tucked away. Sportacus sniffled and Robbie was immediately concerned again; he whined in worry.

“This…this is me and my mom,” the boy said quietly, turning the picture so his companion could see. “We were on vacation last year. Before…” Sportacus sighed. “Thanks for getting this, Robbie. It…it means a lot to me.”

Robbie curled his tail around the boy and gave a soft gurgle.

“I guess I can’t go home anymore, huh?” they sighed. “I don’t really have anywhere to go.”

“No.”

Sportacus looked at him.

Robbie sighed. Why were kits so stupid?

“You home,” Robbie clarified. “Home.” He nudged Sportacus’ chest.

Sportacus looked about ready to cry all over again when they hugged Robbie and pushed their face into his neck. Robbie welcomed the touch.

“You take care me,” Robbie said softly, “Now I take care kit.”

Robbie looked down at the small photograph. He would make sure Sportacus smiled like that again. Things would only get better from here, he decided. For both of them.


	12. Epilogue

What time was it?

Robbie gave a wide yawn and stretched, popping something in his shoulders. Ahh, perfect. The creature rose from his napping rock and yawned again. It was a bright day with little cloud cover, but that wasn’t a problem. At least, it hadn’t been since Sportacus made him what they called Robbie’s _sunflower glasses_ for his sensitive eyes. The thing looked ridiculous, but he had to admit that they worked wonderfully. And besides, Sportacus had made it especially for him.

The creature reluctantly pulled himself away from the rock and headed back up the hill. The view of the countryside from the top was gorgeous; he could smell the stream at the bottom of the valley from here and the hill even had a few trees off in the distance, breaking up the monotony of the grassy fields that swayed slightly in the breeze. Robbie, however, didn’t seem to notice any of the splendor at the moment; he was too focused on the tiny cabin sticking out of the hill just ahead. The structure looked incredibly small and made from a single room, but Robbie knew better. The house didn’t end where its back met the land, but extended inward and under the hill itself. The perfect cave.

Robbie hopped onto the roof with ease from where he walked. He opened the small lock outside the topmost window and let himself inside, slapping it shut with his tail. The purple creature hung his sunflower glasses on a peg nearby and hopped down the tunnel to the main portion of the house.

He barked out a call but heard nothing in reply. The place was his, then. Robbie wandered through the main room, paying no mind to the enormous bookshelf that stretched from one wall to the other, and went straight to what was probably his favorite room in the house: the kitchen. Now an expert on human appliances, Robbie pulled open the refrigerator to take a look at what was inside. Sports candy, chicken, sports candy, milk, sports candy, oh finally. He pulled out the tub of chocolate pudding and pulled off the lid. Robbie let his tail shut the refrigerator door for him while he hugged his precious snack to his chest, lapping up the creamy sweetness where he sat.

The closing of the front door and a call of “Robbie! Are you home?” caused the creature’s ears to perk up. So much for having things to himself. With a grumble, Robbie replaced the pudding, hoping Sportacus wouldn’t notice how much of it he had taken, and went out to greet the kit.

“Hi, Robbie!” Sportacus greeted happily upon seeing him.

The kit—for that was what Sportacus would always be—was more easily described as a man now, but aside from Sportacus’ increased stature and stupidly thin mustache he insisted looked good on him, Robbie was convinced that the elf-human hybrid could be easily mistaken for a child. So much for hoping that they would grow out of their too-bouncy, too-happy phase. The problem was permanent.

Robbie gurgled before giving another large yawn. He froze, mouth still partially open, when he noticed the box Sportacus had carried home. That box smelled…sweet.

Sportacus noticed his gaze immediately. “This is for _after_ dinner,” they said sternly before crossing the room and setting it on a table.

Robbie grumbled, glaring at the man. He gave an additional huff for good measure.

Sportacus rolled his eyes. “After dinner. _But_ ,” he said with a sneaky smile as they pulled another, much smaller box from an old tattered bag at his side, “This one you can have whenever.”

His ears stood up immediately. Robbie hurried over and sniffed at it, sitting back and grabbing the little box with his claws. He ripped it open and screeched with excitement before throwing his snout inside to gobble down the beautiful slice of cake waiting for him inside.

“ _Robbie_ ,” Sportacus laughed. “You need to stop eating so fast. You’ll make yourself sick.”

Stupid kits. They grow up and think they know everything.

“You have frosting on your chin.”

Robbie gave Sportacus an indignant look and, trying to look as suave as possible, licked the frosting off his own face. His kit just rolled their eyes.

“So, how has your day been?” the man asked.

Robbie grunted and turned away, wandering off toward the enormous nest of blankets that made up most of the neighboring room.

“Robbie?”

The creature returned seconds later, walking on two legs and carrying something in his claws. He grinned down at Sportacus—he still loved that, even fully grown, he practically towered over the kit—and handed them a book.

“What’s this?” they asked curiously before reading the cover. A brilliant smile spread across Sportacus’ face. “A Jessie Jumper!” he laughed. “Where did this come from?”

“Found.”

Sportacus eyed the creature. “ _Robbie_ , you didn’t take this from somewhere you weren’t supposed to, did you?”

He rolled his eyes. “Trash.” He then shrugged. “Thought kit may like.”

“I do like it, thank you, Robbie,” Sportacus said happily as they brushed their fingertips across the cover of the old memory. “Do you want me to read it to you?” he teased.

Robbie hissed.

Sportacus laughed and sat down on what they called a couch to further inspect their new book. Robbie called it a poor excuse of a nest, but he joined them anyway and watched Sportacus flip through the pages of the children’s book. Robbie let out a residual yawn and slowly cracked his neck. Robbie glanced over at the massive bookcase nearby, wondering if there was any room left. The book might be thin, but Sportacus hoarded books like Robbie hoarded blankets and curious human contraptions.

Maybe they could find room for it by the pictures Sportacus kept displayed above the fireplace. There were a few images of noisy human children there: at parties or the exhausting sports games the kit loved so much. The centermost of the display, though, were two framed photographs sitting side by side. One was Sportacus’ childhood memory of them and their mother. The other was a photograph taken by—in Robbie’s opinion—an obnoxious pink kit from the town depicting Sportacus trying to wrap an arm around an annoyed-looking Robbie for their portrait. He loved that picture, though he would never admit that to the elf-man.

“I think I will bring this to town tomorrow and show the kit—I mean, kids. I bet Ziggy would really like Jessie Jumper. You should come with me, Robbie. I don’t think you’ve met Ziggy yet.”

Robbie rolled his eyes and started to knead the couch cushion beneath him. Sportacus was always going on and on about the bratty, noisy kits in the town like the children were their own. Maybe he had been a bad influence on him in that regard.

“Come on, Robbie. I tell them about you all the time and they love to hear my stories about you. They always ask how you’re doing. They really want to play with you.”

“No play.”

“I bet you’d like them if you gave them a chance.”

Robbie grunted.

“You gave _me_ a chance,” Sportacus pointed out.

Robbie’s kneading faulted for a moment. “….Different,” he grumbled as his ears pulled back.

“Ziggy really likes candy. And Trixie, she says you seem really cool and wants you to come visit.”

The creature focused on the subtle movements of the cushion below, not daring to meet Sportacus’ gaze. One of the kits thought he was cool? He was no expert on human slang, but he knew that work, at least. Hmm. Maybe the Trixie girl wasn’t a _complete_ brat, then. She might have some promise to her.

“M-Maybe soon,” Robbie eventually relented.

“That’s great!” Sportacus chimed happily. “They love it when you camouflage yourself. You always surprise them with that.”

Robbie had ventured into town with Sportacus barely a handful of times in the past, always against his better judgement, and always ending in some sort of disaster. His camouflage had, at least, kept things from being worse than they were, but that didn’t mean Robbie and human civilization meshed very well. Even so…better judgement. He needed that better judgement. The kit was giving him those giant blue eyes and that twitchy mustache. He really shouldn’t go back into that awful, noisy town.

Robbie rolled his eyes. “Will come if kit _stops_ ,” he finally submitted.

The man laughed. “Okay, Robbie, I’ll stop talking about town,” they agreed.

Robbie nodded happily, finally laying down. Sportacus gently stroked his mane before reaching around and scratching Robbie’s jawline. He hummed quietly at the touch. He lived for moments like this. Just him and his stupid, happy kit. Comfortable in the home that they had built, out in the peace and quiet of the hills. It had taken a while to get here, but life was good now. And it would stay good. And Sportacus would finally let him rest in peace without hearing about all of his kit’s daily heroic exploits in the nearby town.

“So,” Sportacus said after a few blissful minutes of silence. “You won’t believe what happened in town today. You see, Stephanie and Trixie were…”

Robbie sighed, but smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the ending isn't too much of a let down XD I've been so paranoid about a lackluster ending since so many people seem to like this fic...which took me COMPLETELY by surprise, by the way. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for your comments (and holy hell, PamuyaBlucat drawing me actual fanart omg!). They really mean the world to me and keep me going. I've been rather stressed out and down and knowing I've made something that someone out there actually LIKES enough to leave comments has really helped me feel better lately.
> 
> Thank you for following my little story this far. If I can come up with a decent idea maybe I'll write up something else for this universe. Until then, I guess I need to learn how to draw people so I can get out a picture of these two goofballs that has been floating in my head. I'll definitely stick it up on Tumblr if I can manage it.
> 
> Thank you again, guys. You're all amazing.


End file.
